University  of  California  •  Berkeley 

Gift  of 
PAUL  PADGETTE 


MVLDKOW6  ADVENTURB. 


THE  DEATH  OF  JAMES  BRADY. 


Indian  £alc$  for  Roys 


The 


BACK-WOODSMAN, 


AND 


TRUE  STORIES  OF  THE  FRONTIER 


Fantastic  War  Dances  ;    Mysterious  Medicine  Men  ;    Desparate  In 

dian  Braves;    Tortures  of  Prisoners;    Adventures  of  the 

Chase,  etc.;     Together  with   Thrilling  Incidents, 

Bloody  Wars,  Strange  Marriage  Customs, 

Famous  Chiefs,  Efforts  Civilize 

the  Red   Men  of    the 

Forest,  Etc. 


FORTY-EIGHT  FULL  PAGE  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


...By... 

WALTER  SPOONER, 


W.  H.  FERGUSON  COMPANY, 

PUBLISHERS, 
230  and  232  East  Fifth  Street,       ^— CINCINNATI,  O. 


THE  INDIAN  BETRAYED  BY  HIS  WHITE  BROTHER. 


THE  STORY  OF  SPENCER'S  CAPTIVITY 
AMONG  THE  INDIANS. 


TRUE  NARRATIVE. 

AMONG  the  various  stories  of  early  adventure, 
enterprise,  and  heroism,  related  in  these  pages, 
none  are  more  remarkable,  or  will  be  read  with 
greater  attention,  than  that  of  O.  M'.  Spencer,  who, 
during  a  period  of  eight  months'  captivity  with  the 
Indians,  passed  through  an  experience  of  the  most 
singular  and  eventful  character,  gaining,  in  that  time, 
a  knowledge  of  the  language,  manners,  and  customs 
of  the  Indian  tribes,  which  was  at  once  highly  inter- 
esting and  instructive.  This  story  possesses  more 
than  usual  interest,  not  only  on  account  of  the 
exciting  nature  of  the  narrative,  but  also  of  the 
extreme  youth  of  the  adventurer;  and  the  insight 
which  it  affords  us  into  the  early  history  of  the 
Western  country,  as  well  as  of  the  character  of  the 
savage  races  who  populated  it,  renders  it  very  use- 
ful and  pleasing  to  the  thoughtful  reader. 

It  was  on  a  pleasant  day  in  October,  of  the  year 

(17) 


1 8  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

1790,  that  young  Spencer,  then  only  nine  years  of 
age,  mounted  the  leading  horse  attached  to  the 
foremost  of  two  wagons  destined  to  the  far  West. 
In  these  wagons  were  stowed  such  indispensable 
articles  of  household  furniture  as  could  not  at  that 
time  be  easily  procured  west  of  the  Alleghanies. 
With  spirits  naturally  buoyant,  pleased  with  the 
novelty  of  traveling,  from  which  he  anticipated  a 
great  deal,  of  pleasure,  the  few  tears  which  the 
youthful  emigrant  shed  on  quitting  forever  the  home 
of  his  childhood  were  soon  dried ;  and  he  won- 
dered not  a  little  at  the  sober  sadness  of  his  father, 
the  deep  sighs  of  his  mother,  and  the  frequent  sobs 
of  his  sisters,  whose  feelings  ^  and  expectations  he 
supposed  would  naturally  correspond  with  his  own. 

Mr.  Spencer's  father  had  descended  from  one  of 
the  first  families  who  left  England  on  account  of  the 
persecutions  for  religious  opinions,  in  the  reign  of 
the  second  Charles,  to  seek,  in  the  unbroken  wilds 
of  New  England,  an  asylum  from  oppression,  and  to 
rear  a  temple  to  the  God  of  their  fathers,  in  which 
they  might  worship  "according  to  the  dictates  of 
their  own  consciences."  Inheriting  the  spirit  of  his 
ancestors,  he  was  among  the  first  to  resist  the  pre- 
tensions of  Great  Britain,  and  to  arm  in  defense  of 
American  rights  and  liberties.  Having  signalized 
himself  on  several  occasions,  particularly  in  the  battle 
of  Springfield,  N.  J.,  at  the  head  of  a  battalion  of 
militia,  he  was  appointed,  by  Congress,  to  the  com- 
mand of  a  regiment,  which  he  led  i*i  the  battles  of 
Brandy  wine,  Germantown,  and  Monmouth;  and  at 


SPENCER  S    CAPTIVITY.  19 

the  head  of  this  regiment  he  continued  until  the 
close  of  the  war. 

Before  entering  the  Continental  army,  he  had 
become  possessed  of  a  small  fortune,  the  fruits  of 
his  industry  in  a  lucrative  business;  but  of  this,  a 
large  amount  was  destroyed  by  the  enemy,  and 
more  than  ten  thousand  dollars,  advanced  by  him 
in  specie  to  pay  and  clothe  his  regiment,  was  repaid 
to  him  by  Congress,  in  Continental  money,  on  which 
he  sustained  a  total  loss.  Like  many  of  his  com- 
panions in  arms,  after  encountering  the  dangers  and 
enduring  the  hardships  of  a  protracted  war,  Colonel 
Spencer  found  himself  at  its  close  reduced  from 
affluence  to  comparative  poverty;  but  with  them, 
too,  he  enjoyed  the  proud  satisfaction  of  having 
aided  in  achieving  that  independence  which  laid  the 
foundation  of  our  national  greatness  and  prosperity, 
and  the  hope  of  perpetuating  to  his  children's  chil- 
dren the  blessings  of  civil  and  religious  liberty. 

With  impaired  health  and  injured  constitution,  he 
again  engaged  in  business,  hoping  in  time  to  retrieve 
his  losses,  and  trusting  in  the  honor  and  justice  of 
the  government  to  pay  his  equitable  claims  against 
it;  but  in  this  hope  and  confidence  he  was  deeply 
disappointed.  After  toiling  many  years  with  little  suc- 
cess, hearing  the  flattering  accounts  then  in  circulation 
of  the  beauty  and  fertility  of  the  Miami  country,  he 
determined  to  explore  it.  He  visited  it  in  1789; 
and,  being  much  pleased  with  it,  determined  to  make 
it  his  future  home.  Previous  to  his  leaving  home, 

he  had   disposed  of  his  certificates  for  his  military 
2 


2O  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

services  at  one-third  of  their  nominal  value,  and 
invested  their  proceeds  in  Miami  lands;  and,  hav- 
ing purchased  some  lots,  and  erected  a  cabin  in 
Columbia  for  the  reception  of  his  family,  he  returned 
to  effect  the  removal. 

The  first  few  days  of  the  journey  passed  very 
heavily, — the  thoughtless  whistle  of  young  Spencer, 
and  the  quaint  expressions  and  occasional  humorous 
sayings  of  the  driver,  an  old  soldier,  being  all  that 
for  hours  broke  upon  the  stillness  of  the  lonely 
woods,  or  varied  the  dull  monotony  of  the  rumbling 
wheels.  Gradually,  however,  the  family  became  more 
cheerful.  Dwelling  less  upon  the  past,  their  thoughts 
began  to  be  occupied  with  their  present  condition  and 
future  prospects,  and  they  now  found  much  to  interest 
them,  and  to  render  their  journey  agreeable. 

From  Mendham,  a  small  village  in  East  Jersey 
(their  late  residence),  their  route  lay  through  Easton 
and  Harrisburg.  Passing  these  towns,  the  formida- 
ble mountains  which  separate  the  waters  of  the  At- 
lantic States  from  those  of  the  Mississippi  Valley 
were  soon  reached,  and  here  the  family  were  called 
upon  to  exercise  all  their  fortitude  and  patience. 
Few  who  now  make  the  journey  by  rail  from  New 
York  or  Philadelphia  to  Cincinnati,  with  all  the  com- 
forts of  modern  travel,  can  conceive  of  the  hazards 
incurred  by  the  early  emigrants,  who,  besides  being 
subjected  to  the  greatest  personal  inconvenience  and 
exposure,  were  not  unfrequently  placed  in  imminent 
peril  of  life  and  limb,  partly  from  the  dangerous 
character  of  the  roads,  which  were  narrow  in  width 


SPENCER  S    CAPTIVITY.  2! 

and  often  extremely  steep  and  even  precipitous,  and 
partly  from  attacks  by  hostile  Indians,  who  at  that 
time  infested  every  part  of  the  then  Western  country. 

During  the  journey  across  the  mountains,  an  inci- 
dent occurred  which,  though  happily  not  serious  in 
its  results,  caused  the  family  considerable  alarm. 
They  had  taken  shelter  one  evening  in  a  dense 
forest,  two  miles  from  any  habitation,  and,  after 
eating  their  slender  meal,  had  retired  for  the  night. 
Young  Spencer  had  slept,  perhaps,  two  hours,  when, 
awaking  at  about  eleven  o'clock,  he  discovered  that 
his  bed-fellow,  a  nephew  a  year  his  senior,  had  left 
the  wagon.  After  waiting  some  time,  as  he  did  not 
return,  he  called  him;  and,  repeating  his  calls  louder 
and  louder,  soon  awakened  the  family.  Search  was 
made  in  every  direction,  but  in  vain ;  loud  calls  and 
the  firing  of  guns  received  no  response  but  the 
louder  howling  of  the  wolves,  which,  as  the  family 
now  believed,  had  torn  him  to  pieces.  But,  in  the 
midst  of  their  alarm  and  distress,  they  received  the 
welcome  information  of  his  safety.  He  had  walked 
in  his  sleep,  with  bare  feet,  and  almost  naked,  in  a 
cold  night  of  October,  to  a  house  about  two  miles 
distant,  had  knocked  at  the  door,  and  was  admitted, 
but  did  not  awake  until  the  screams  of  the  inmates, 
some  of  whom  were  terror-stricken,  aroused  him. 
Recovering  himself,  he  soon  convinced  them  that  he 
was  not  an  apparition,  but  a  real  "spirit  of  health," 
and,  as  it  was  late,  was  kindly  accommodated  with  a 
bed  for  the  night. 

Before  the  application  of  steam  to  the  propulsion 


22  THE   BACK-WOODSMEN. 

of  vessels,  almost  the  only  conveyance  on  the  West- 
ern waters  was  by  keel  and  flat-boats.  The  latter, 
being  cheap  and  easily  built,  and  intended  wholly 
for  conveyance  down  the  Ohio  and  Mississippi,  were 
always  sought  by  families  descending  these  rivers ; 
and,  as  there  were  several  places  along  the  Monon- 
gahela  at  which  these  boats  were  built,  and  where 
they  could  be  obtained  on  better  terms  than  at  Pitts- 
burgh, instead  of  taking  the  direct  road  to  that  place, 
the  Spencers  took  a  south-westerly  direction  to 
Jacob's  Creek,  a  branch  of  the  Youghiogheny. 
Here,  having  arrived  and  waited  more  than  a  month 
for  the  building  of  a  boat,  and  for  a  rise  of  water, 
they  embarked  for  Columbia;  and,  in  company  with 
another  family,  which  augmented  their  numbers  to 
about  sixteen,  they  soon  found  themselves  quietly 
gliding  down  the  beautiful  waters  of  the  Ohio. 

The  remainder  of  the  journey  was  made  without 
any  event  of  an  unusual  nature ;  and,  although  the 
emigrants  were  sometimes  alarmed,  and  often  appre- 
hended an  attack,  they  saw  no  Indians,  and  but  few 
signs  of  any,  during  their  progress.  Passing  by 
Pittsburgh,  Wheeling,  Marietta,  Kanawha,  Gallipolis, 
Maysville,  and  a  few  other  intermediate  settlements, 
they  arrived  safely  at  Columbia,  their  future  home, 
in  December,  1790. 

This  town,  like  all  others  in  the  neighborhood  of 
Cincinnati,  was  at  that  time  in  its  primitive  state. 
It  had  been  laid  out  by  Major  Benjamin  Stites,  its 
original  proprietor,  into  blocks, — each  containing 
eight  lots  of  half  an  acre  apiece,  bounded  by  streets 


SPENCER  S    CAPTIVITY.  1$ 

intersecting  at  right  angles, — and  was  expected  by 
him  and  others  to  become  some  day  a  large  city,  the 
capital  of  the  great  West. 

It  was  in  a  small  log  hut  in  this  village  that  the 
Spencer  family  took  up  their  residence.  The  doors 
were  of  thick  oak  plank,  turning  on  stout  wooden 
hinges,  and  secured  with  strong  bars  braced  with 
timber  from  the  floor,  thus  forming  a  safe  barrier  to 
the  entrance  below ;  while  above,  on  every  side,  were 
port  holes  or  small  embrasures,  from  which  the  in- 
mates might  see  and  fire  upon  the  enemy.  Of 
windows,  there  were  but  two,  containing  only  four 
panes  of  glass  each,  in  openings  so  small  that  any 
attempt  to  enter  them  by  force  must  have  proved 
fatal  to  the  intruder. 

The  new  habitation  had  been  occupied  about  a 
month, — during  which  time  its  accommodations  had 
been  greatly  increased, — before  any  event  occurred 
to  disturb  the  peace  or  happiness  of  the  family.  In- 
deed, they  had  begun  to  submit  to  the  inconven- 
iences, privations,  hardships,  and  dangers  common 
to  the  pioneers  of  the  West,  without  much  repin- 
ing; and,  having  heard  of  no  recent  disturbances  by 
Indians  in  their  immediate  neighborhood,  had  begun 
to  give  over  their  apprehension  of  danger.  Their 
fears  were,  however,  suddenly  aroused  by  the  news 
of  an  attack  made  by  several  hundred  Indians  on 
Dunlap's  Station  (now  Colerain);  fifteen  or  twenty 
miles  north-west  of  Cincinnati,  then  garrisoned  by  a 
few  inhabitants,  and  thirty  or  forty  soldiers,  under 
the  command  of  Lieutenant  Kingsbury.  This  intelli- 


24  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

gence  was  brought  by  Mr.  John  S.  Wallace  (after 
ward  Colonel  Wallace),  who,  at  the  risk  of  his 
life,  left  the  garrison  ,at  night,  passed  unperceived 
through  the  enemy,  and  reached  Cincinnati  the  same 
night.  Of  the  volunteers,  who  marched  immediately 
to  relieve  the  garrison,  one  company  was  from  Co- 
lumbia. All  were  well  mounted,  and  armed  with 
rifles,  knives,  and  some  even  with  tomahawks,  and 
dressed  in  hunting  shirts;  and,  thus  prepared,  they 
moved  off  in  single  file.  Arriving  at  Colerain  too 
late  to  encounter  the  enemy,  who  a  few  hours  before 
had  raised  the  siege,  they,  after  a  short  pursuit, 
returned  home.  The  apprehensions  of  the  citi- 
zens were  by  no  means  allayed  by  their  fearful  ac- 
counts of  Indian  warfare  and  barbarity;  and  the 
story  of  the  burning  of  Mr.  Abner  Hunt,  whom 
the  savages  had  taken  prisoner  a  few  hours  before 
their  attack  on  the  garrison,  shocked  them  beyond- 
measure.  It  is  much  easier  to  conceive  than  to  de- 
scribe the  feelings  of  the  garrison,  when,  after  being 
urged  and  entreated  by  the  wretched  man  to  purchase 
their  own  safety,  and,  above  all,  his  life,  by  surrender- 
ing to  the  enemy,  they  saw  him  led  off,  and  witnessed 
the  fearful  preparations  for  torture ;  or  the  heart-sick- 
ening anguish  of  hope  suddenly  extinguished,  and  the 
mute  despair  of  the  prisoner,  as  he  heard  the  decided 
though  reluctant  refusal  of  the  garrison  to  save  his  life 
at  the  certain  loss  of  their  own.  The  Indians  had  tied 
their  prisoner  to  a  sapling  within  sight  of  the  garrison, 
by  whom  his  screams  were  distinctly  heard,  and  built 
a  large  fire  so  near  as  to  scorch  him,  inflicting  the  most 


SPENCER'S  CAPTIVITY.  27 

acute  pain ;  then,  as  his  flesh,  from  the  action  of  the 
fire,  and  the  frequent  application  of  live  coals,  became 
less  sensible,  making  deep  incisions  in  his  limbs,  as  if 
to  renew  his  susceptibility  of  pain  ;  answering  his  cries 
for  water,  to  allay  the  extreme  thirst  caused  by  burn- 
ing, by  fresh  tortures;  and  finally  when,  exhausted 
and  fainting,  death  seemed  approaching  to  release  the 
wretched  prisoner,  terminating  his  sufferings  by  ap- 
plying flaming  brands  to  his  naked  bowels.  In  this 
siege,  which  lasted  two  days,  the  Indians  suffered 
severely  in  killed  and  wounded,  without  inflicting  any 
serious  personal  injury  on  the  garrison,  whose  princi- 
pal loss  was  in  cattle,  destroyed  or  driven  off  by  the 
enemy. 

The  attack  on  Dunlap's  Station  was  followed  by 
successive  depredations  and  murders  by  the  Indians. 
In  the  ensuing  spring,  they  attacked  several  boats, 
killed  many  persons,  and  took  some  prisoners  on 
the  Ohio.  Men  were  killed,  or  made  prisoners,  even 
on  the  outlets  of  Cincinnati,  and  near  the  mouth 
of  Deer  Creek,  and  many  were  the  hair-breadth 
escapes  from  captivity  or  death.  A  Mr.  Bailey, 
while  returning  home  one  night  on  horseback,  was 
seized  and  made  prisoner  in  the  immediate  neigh- 
borhood of  the  Spencers  by  Indians  who  had  con- 
cealed themselves  behind  a  large  elm  which  grew 
near  the  turnpike  ;  and  shortly  afterwards,  near  the 
narrows  of  the  Little  Miami  River,  the  brave  but 
unfortunate  Newell  fell  a  victim  to  the  rifle  and 
scalping-knife  of  the  savage. 

The  successful  expedition  of  General  Scott,  of  Ken- 


28  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

tucky,  against  the  Indians  on  the  Wabash,  in  May, 
1791,  had  but  little  effect  on  the  tribes  to  the  north, 
whose  boldness  and  daring  remained  unchecked. 
Early  in  the  summer  of  that  year,  they  stole  the 
horses  of  the  Spencer  family,  two  in  number,  from 
a  shed  adjoining  the  cabin;  and  only  a  few  days 
afterwards  the  whole  family  narrowly  escaped  total 
massacre.  They  had  just  ended  their  evening's  re- 
past, and  were  about  to  rise  from  the  table,  when 
one  of  the  women,  hearing,  as  she  believed,  the 
almost  noiseless  tread  of  approaching  footsteps, 
casting  her  eyes  upon  the  door,  and  perceiving, 
as  she  thought,  the  latch  gently  rising,  sprang  up, 
and,  seizing  it,  held  it  down  until  the  doors  were 
barred.  Immediate  preparations  were  made  for  de- 
fense. The  lights  were  instantly  extinguished ;  and, 
while  the  females  of  the  family  sought  safety  by  cov- 
ering themselves  with  beds,  the  men,  three  in  num- 
ber, with  a  rifle  and  two  muskets,  manned  the  port- 
holes above,  and,  by  frequently  moving  to  the  differ- 
ent sides  of  the  house,  endeavored  to  impress  the 
Indians  with  an  idea  of  their  strength.  The  tread  of 
the  Indians  was  now  distinctly  heard,  and  the  forms 
of  two  or  three  of  them  were  indistinctly  seen  gliding 
through  the  darkness.  Their  intention,  no  doubt, 
had  been  to  take  the  family  by  surprise,  and,  open- 
ing the  back  door  silently,  to  have  first  fired,  and 
then  to  have  rushed  into  the  house,  and  with  their 
tomahawks  completed  the  work  of  destruction ;  but, 
being  too  weak  in  numbers  to  accomplish  this,  and 
seeing  no  opportunity  of  making  an  attack,  and, 


SPENCER  S    CAPTIVITY.  2  9 

probably,  too,  not  wishing  to  alarm  the  town  with- 
out first  effecting  some  mischief,  they  soon  stole  off 
and  disappeared.  But  a  few  minutes,  however,  had 
elapsed  before  the  crack  of  rifles  within  two  hun- 
dred yards  was  heard,  followed  by  the  shrill  war- 
whoop  of  the  Indians.  Three  musket  shots  in 
quick  succession  soon  sounded  an  alarm;  and,  in 
ten  minutes,  about  thirty  men  had  assembled  at  the 
cabin  of  Ensign  Bowman,  on  the  hill-side,  a  short 
distance  west  of  the  Spencer  house.  They  found 
the  family  in  great  consternation.  The  Indians  had 
fired  into  the  house  through  an  opening  between  the 
logs,  and,  guided  by  the  light  within,  had  wounded 
Mrs.  Bowman  slightly  in  the  body.  At  sunrise  of 
the  following  day,  a  small  party  pursued  the  In- 
dians, whose  number,  judging  from  their  trails, 
did  not  exceed  six;  and,  toward  noon,  finding  their 
tracks  quite  fresh,  and  judging  that  they  were  now 
almost  in  view  of  the  enemy,  moved  cautiously,  half 
bent,  and  straining  their  eyes  as  if  they  would  look 
through  every  tree  before  them.  Suddenly,  at  the 
sharp  crack  of  one  of  their  own  rifles,  as  by  one  im- 
pulse, each  sprang  behind  a  tree,  waiting  a  few  mo- 
ments, in  breathless  suspense,  the  appearance  of  the 
Indians.  At  this  moment  a  huge  bear  was  seek 
"bounding  off  a  few  rods  from  the  left,  and  the  dis- 
appointed marksman  was  heard  muttering  curses  on 
his  rifle  for  deceiving  his  expectations.  The  rest  of 
the  party,  however,  who  had  strong  doubts  of  his 
courage,  and  believed  that  he  had  availed  himself 
of  this  opportunity  to  avoid  an  encounter  with  the 


3O  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

enemy,  were  deeply  incensed,  and  could  with  diffi- 
culty be  prevented  from  anticipating  the  decision  of 
a  court-martial,  by  inflicting  summary  punishment  on 
the  culprit,  who,  in  one  unlucky  moment,  as  they  con- 
fidently believed,  had  deprived  them  of  the  certain 
spoils  of  victory. 

Soon  after  the  failure  of  Colonel  Harmar's  expedi- 
tion, the  government  determined  to  send  a  powerful 
force  against  the  Indians,  sufficient  at  once  to  reduce 
them  to  subjection.  Troops  were  daily  arriving  at 
Cincinnati,  so  that,  in  September,  1791,  a  large  force, 
consisting  of  regulars,  levies,  and  militia,  under  the 
command  of  General  St.  Clair,  then  Governor  of  the 
North-Western  Territory,  was  ready  to  march  against 
the  enemy.  From  the  known  experience  and  distin- 
guished reputation  of  the  general  as  a  soldier,  and 
the  character  of  the  officers  under  his  command,  the 
greater  part  of  whom  had  "seen  service,"  complete 
success  was  confidently  anticipated ;  and,  in  the  full 
expectation  that  the  Indians  would  soon  be  humbled 
into  submission,  and  apprehending  no  danger  while 
a  force  so  formidable  guarded  their  frontiers,  the  in- 
habitants of  the  Miami  Valley  enjoyed  for  some 
weeks  tranquillity  and  repose. 

From  Cincinnati,  the  march  of  General  St.  Clair's 
army  was  in  a  direction  a  little  west  of  north.  Pass- 
ing Fort  Hamilton,  which  they  had  previously  built 
on  the  site  of  the  present  city  of  Hamilton,  and 
crossing  the  Great  Miami  at  that  place,  they  ad- 
vanced about  twenty-six  miles;  and,  having  built 
Fort  St.  Clair,  near  the  present  town  of  Eaton, 


SPENCER'S  CAPTIVITY.  31 

marched  twenty-two  miles  farther  north,  and  erected 
Fort  Jefferson. 

Their  progress  had  been  slow,  not  only  from  the 
delay  of  building  forts,  but  from  the  nature  of  the 
ground  over  which  they  passed,  where  much  labor 
was  required  in  opening  and  making  a  road  for 
the  passage  of  artillery  and  baggage  wagons.  They 
had  suffered  some  detention,  too,  from  the  want 
of  supplies;  sometimes  failing  from  the  neglect  of 
contractors,  and  at  others  interrupted  or  cut  off 
by  the  enemy.  Pursuing  the  direct  course  to  the 
Indian  villages  on  the  Maumee  River,  or  Miami  of 
Lake  Erie,  they  had,  on  the  3d  of  November,  ad- 
vanced about  thirty  miles  north-westwardly  of  Fort 
Jefferson,  and  within  forty-five  miles  of  the  nearest 
town  of  the  enemy ;  while  the  inhabitants'  of  the 
Miami  settlements,  who  had  almost  daily  heard  of 
the  progress  of  the  army,  and  who  confidently 
anticipated  a  complete  success,  were  anxiously  ex- 
pecting soon  to  hear  that  a  glorious  and  deci- 
sive victory  had  been  achieved.  But  inexpressible 
was  their  disappointment,  and  deep  was  their  con- 
sternation, when,  on  the  evening  of  the  6th  of  No- 
vember, accounts  reached  them  of  the  total  defeat 
of  the  army, — accounts  confirmed  every  hour  by 
fugitives,  with  more  fearful  details  of  Indian  bar- 
barity: and  almost  immediately  afterward, — Novem- 
ber 8th, — the  broken  remains  of  the  army,  who  had 
marched  night  and  day,  reached  Cincinnati. 

Of  about  fifteen  hundred  men  who  engaged  in 
battle  on  the  fatal  morning  of  the  4th  of  November, 


32  THE   BACK-WOODSMEN. 

six  hundred  and  thirty,  including  thirty-seven  officers, 
were  killed ;  and  two  hundred  and  forty-four,  includ- 
ing thirty  officers,  were  wounded.  Beside  these;  a 
number  of  pack  horsemen,  wagoners,  and  others  at- 
tached to  the  army,  were  killed;  and  of  nearly  two 
hundred  women,  principally  its  followers,  three  only- 
escaped — about  fifty  were  killed,  and  all  the  rest  were 
made  prisoners.  Had  the  Indians  pursued  their  ad- 
vantage, they  might  easily  have  cut  off  the  whole 
remnant  of  the  troops,  many  of  whom,  soon  after  the 
retreat  commenced  threw  away  their  arms,  betaking 
themselves  to  flight.  But,  having  signally  defeated 
the  army,  and  satisfied  for  a  time  their  thirst  for  car- 
nage, the  greater  part  of  them  remained  to  plunder 
the  camp ;  while  those  who  pursued  the  flying  troops, 
cutting  off  the  stragglers  and  scalping  the  wounded, 
after  following  them  about  four  miles,  fearing  they 
should  not  obtain  their  share  of  the  spoil,  suddenly 
gave  up  the  pursuit,  and  returned  to  the  encamp- 
ment. Here,  after  plundering  and  stripping  the 
dead,  securing  every  thing  that  they  could  individ- 
ually appropriate  and,  after  having  gorged  them 
selves  with  feasting,  principally  on  slaughtered  bul- 
locks, they  began  to  drink  and  carouse;  and,  while 
some  became  stupid,  others  grew  more  ferocious 
as  they  felt  the  influence  of  the  "fire  water,"  and 
rent  the  air  with  their  hideous  war-whoops,  acting 
over  their  savage  feats,  cutting  and  mangling  the 
dead  bodies.  A  few  Indians,  less  ferocious,  dressing 
themselves  in  the  uniforms  of  the  dead  officers, 
strutted  about  the  encampment.  One  of  these 


SPENCER  S    CAPTIVITY.  33 

Mr.  Spencer  afterward  saw,  while  a  prisoner  among 
the  Shawnees.  He  wore  the  dress  coat  of  a  field 
officer  of  infantry,  with  silver  epaulets  on  his  shoul- 
ders, and  a  watch  suspended  from  each  ear.  With 
one  hand  on  the  facing  of  his  coat,  he  said:  "Me 
kill  um ; "  and,  smiting  his  breast  with  the  other, 
vociferated:  "Captain  Walker!  Great  man  me!" 
The  Indians  were  led  by  several  brave  and  experi- 
enced chiefs;  and,  beside  the  infamous  renegade 
Girty,  and  the  notorious  Colonel  Elliot,  it  is  said 
that  Captain  McKee  of  the  royal  Americans,  and 
several  of  the  British  officers,  were  in  the  battle. 

The  defeat  of  General  St.  Clair  was  not  followed 
by  those  disastrous  consequences  which  at  first  were 
apprehended.  Strong  garrisons  being  kept  at  Ham- 
ilton, St.  Clair,  and  even  Fort  Jefferson,  afforded  the 
inhabitants  of  the  Miami  settlements  great  protec- 
tion ;  while  in  Fort  Washington  several  companies  of 
troops,  more  than  were  necessary  for  its  defense,  not 
only  gave  constant  security  to  the  citizens  of  Cincin- 
nati, but  also  the  means  of  repelling  any  inroads  of 
the  enemy,  and  of  extending  aid  to  other  villages  in 
case  of  attack. 

The  winter  of  1791-2  was  followed  by  an  early  and 
delightful  spring.  On  the  last  of  February,  some  of 
the  trees  were  putting  forth  their  foliage;  in  March, 
the  red-bud,  the  hawthorn,  and  the  dog-wood,  in  full 
bloom,  checkered  the  hills,  displaying  their  beauti- 
ful colors  of  rose  and  lily;  and,  in  April,  the  ground 
was  covered  with  may-apple,  bloodroot,  ginseng,  vio- 
lets, and  a  great  variety  of  herbs  and  flowers.  At 


34  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

this  delightful  season,  the  settlers  of  Columbia  weot 
out  to  plough  their  ground  and  plant  their  crops. 
The  principal  corn  field  was  distant  about  a  mile  and 
a  half  from  the  village,  and  adjoined  the  extensive 
plain  on  which  the  town  stood.  This  field  was  laid 
off  into  lots  of  five  acres  each;  and,  of  these  lots, 
some  of  the  citizens  owned  one,  and  others  two  or 
more :  and,  to  save  labor,  the  whole  was  enclosed 
by  one  fence.  Here  the  men  generally  worked  in 
companies,  exchanging  labor;  or,  in  adjoining  fields, 
with  their  fire  arms  near  them,  in  order  that,  in  case 
of  an  attack,  they  might  be  ready  to  unite  for  their 
common  defense. 

Small  as  he  then  was,  young  Spencer  did  his  share 
of  the  work  on  the  farm,  driving  the  oxen,  while  his 
father,  followed  by  the  corn  dressers,  guided  the  plow 
between  the  rows;  for,  having  lost  their  horses,  they 
were  obliged  to  substitute  cattle,  which,  however,  fully 
answered  the  purpose,  being  connected  by  a  long 
yoke,  having  the  draft  near  to  one  of  them,  and  so 
permitting  each  to  walk  in  a  separate  row.  The 
ground  was  very  fertile,  and,  though  quite  ordinarily 
cultivated,  yielded  an  average  crop  of  eighty  bushels 
of  corn  to  the  acre;  and  some  lots,  well  tilled,  pro- 
duced a  hundred,  and,  in  very  favorable  seasons,  a 
hundred  and  ten  bushels  to  the  acre.  An  inhabitant 
of  New  England,  New  Jersey,  or  some  portions  of 
Maryland,  would  think  it  scarcely  credible  that,  in 
hills  four  feet  apart,  were  four  or  five  stalks,  one 
and  a  half  inches  in  diameter,  and  fifteen  feet  high, 
bearing  each  two  or  three  ears  of  corn,  of  which 


SPENGER  S   CAPTIVITY.  35 

some  were  so  far  from  the  ground,  that,  to  pull 
them,  a  man  of  medium  height  was  obliged  to  stand 
on  tiptoe. 

We  now  come  to  the  period  of  Spencer's  captivity 
with  the  Indians  of  the  Ohio  Valley,— all  that  has 
been  written  previous  to  this  serving  merely  to  in- 
troduce the  more  important  subject.  Extraordinary 
as  are  the  adventures  which  we  now  have  to  relate, 
it  is  a  fact  which  has  forcibly  impressed  itself  upon 
the  minds  of  all  who  have  read  Mr.  Spencer's 
remarkable,  though  in  every  respect  sincere  and 
truthful,  narrative,  that  the  story  has  not  the  small- 
est element  of  fiction  or  improbability,  and  is,  in- 
deed, a  record  of  actual  occurrences. 

It  was  a  time-honored  custom  among  the  pioneers 
of  this  part  of  the  Ohio  Valley  to  celebrate  the  an- 
niversary of  the  Declaration  of  Independence  by  a 
grand  fete  at  Fort  Washington,  the  present  site  of 
the  city  of  Cincinnati ;  and,  to  this  end,  the  settlers 
from  all  parts  of  the  neighboring  country  congre- 
gated at  the  fort,  and  passed  the  day  in  sports  and 
festivities.  On  the  afternoon  of  the  3d  of  July,  1792, 
the  boy  Spencer,  in  company  with  his  sister,  several 
ladies  of  Columbia,  and  some  officers,  who  had  come 
on  the  morning  of  that  day  for  the  express  purpose 
of  acting  as  an  escort  to  the  party,  left  his  home  for 
Fort  Washington,  where  he  was  to  spend  the  follow- 
ing Fourth,  and  remain  for  a  few  days.  The  party 
left  the  shore,  in  front  of  Mr.  Spencer's  dwelling,  in  a 
fine  barge  rowed  by  eight  soldiers,  and  were  soon  de- 


36  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

scending,  with  the  rapid  current  of  the  river,  at  the 
rate  of  six  miles  an  hour. 

The  scenery  of  the  Ohio,  between  Columbia  and 
Cincinnati,  was,  in  those  days,  truly  romantic,  scarcely 
a  tree  having  been  cut  on  either  side,  between  the 
mouth  of  Crawfish  Creek  and  that  of  Deer  Creek, — 
a  distance  of  more  than  four  miles.  The  right  bank 
of  the  river,  crowned  with  its  lofty  hills,  now  gradu- 
ally ascending,  and  now  rising  abruptly  to  their  sum- 
mits, and  forming  a  vast  amphitheater,  was,  from 
Columbia,  for  a  distance  of  about  two  miles,  very 
steep,  and  covered  with  trees  quite  down  to  the 
beach.  From  this  point  (marked  by  a  small  island 
in  the  middle  of  the  stream),  the  ascent  became 
more  gradual,  and,  for  two  miles  further  down,  the 
bank  was  covered  with  a  thick  growth  of  willows, 
through  which,  in  many  places,  it  was  difficult  to 
force  one's  way.  Below  this,  the  beach  was  wide 
and  stony,  with  only  here  and  there  a  small  tuft  of 
willows,  while  the  wood  on  the  side  and  on  the  top 
of  the  bank  was  more  open.  We  have  been  thus 
particular  in  describing  the  river  between  Columbia 
and  Cincinnati,  not  only  that  those  who  now  see  it 
may  have  some  idea  of  its  former  appearance,  but 
also  that  the  reader  may  better  understand  the  nar- 
rative that  follows. 

The  party  in  the  boat  enjoyed  a  rapid,  safe,  and 
very  agreeable  passage  down  the  river,  and,  arriving 
at  their  destination,  landed  on  the  shore,  and  in  a  few 
moments  entered  Fort  Washington. 

The  morning  of  the  Fourth  was  ushered  in  by  the 


SPENCER  S   CAPTIVITY.  37 

discharge  of  thirteen  rounds  from  the  cannon  of  the 
fort.  At  twelve  the  firing  was  repeated,  and  the 
troops  under  arms  performed  various  evolutions;  at 
dinner,  as  usual,  the  toasts  were  followed  by  the  dis- 
charge of  artillery ;  at  dusk  there  was  a  brilliant  ex- 
hibition of  fireworks ;  and  at  night  the  festivities  of 
the  day  were  concluded  by  a  very  agreeable  and 
sprightly  ball. 

The  two  following  days  were  spent  by  young  Spen- 
cer in  various  boyish  amusements;  but,  having  ex- 
hausted these,  and  growing  tired  of  play,  he  became 
restless  and  uneasy,  and  formed  the  rash,  though,  to 
a  youth  of  his  age, — he  was  at  that  time  only  eleven 
years  old, — not  unnatural,  resolution  of  returning 
home.  He  accordingly  separated  himself  from  his 
companions,  and,  watching  his  chances,  secretly  left 
the  garrison,  who,  as  he  afterwards  learned,  knew 
nothing  of  his  absence  until  receiving  the  intelli- 
gence of  his  capture.  Reaching  the  bank  in  front 
of  the  fort  about  three  o'clock  on  the  afternoon  of 
the  7th,  he  found  a  canoe,  with  four  persons  on  board, 
bound  for  Columbia,  just  about  to  push  off  from  the 
shore.  Recognizing  one  of  them  as  an  acquaint- 
ance, he  hailed  them,  and  requested  them  to  take 
him  on  board.  This  request,  after  a  few  moments' 
consultation,  was  complied  with,  and  the  canoe, 
which  was  small,  narrow,  and  quite  unsteady,  pushed 
out  into  the  middle  of  the  stream. 

They  had  proceeded  for  but  a  short  distance,  when 
one  of  the  men,  who  was  in  a  state  of  beastly  intoxi- 
cation, fell  overboard,  nearly  capsizing  the  boat  as  he 
3 


38  THE   BACK-WOODSMEN. 

did  so.  He  swam  to  the  shore,  and,  as  the  rest  of 
the  party  did  not  care  to  endanger  their  safety  by 
again  taking  him  into  the  vessel,  they  left  him  on 
the  bank,  and  resumed  their  voyage.  The  boy  Spen- 
cer had,  however,  been  so  much  frightened  by  the 
accident,  that  he  was  afraid  to  remain  in  the  boat, 
and  entreated  the  men  to  set  him  on  shore,  which 
they  accordingly  did;  and,  while  the  canoe  continued 
on  its  way  within  a  few  feet  of  the  beach,  he  kept 
pace  with  it,  amusing  himself  in  the  meantime  by 
skimming  stones  over  the  smooth  surface  of  the 
water. 

In  the  bow  of  the  boat  stood  Mr.  Jacob  Light, 
aiding  its  propulsion  by  a  stout  pole ;  in  the  stern 
was  a  stranger,  a  swarthy,  athletic  man,  with  thick 
black,  bushy  hair,  who  had  in  his  hand  a  paddle, 
which  he  sometimes  used  as  an  oar,  and  sometimes 
as  a  rudder;  and  in  the  center  sat  Mrs.  Coleman, 
an  old  woman  of  sixty.  The  canoe  had  rounded 
the  point  of  a  small  cove  less  than  a  mile  below  the 
foot  of  the  island  already  mentioned,  and  had  pro- 
ceeded a  few  hundred  yards  along  the  close  willows 
here  bordering  the  beach  at  about  two  rods  dis- 
tance from  the  water,  when  the  stranger  in  the 
stern,  looking  back,  and  seeing  the  drunken  man 
staggering  along  the  shore  nearly  a  mile  below, 
remarked,  with  an  oath,  that  he  would  be  "bait  for 
the  Indians."  He  had  scarcely  made  this  remark, 
and  resumed  his  labor,  for  a  few  moments  sus- 
pended, when  Spencer  (who  was  still  walking  along 
the  shore),  turning  his  eyes  from  the  drunken  man 


SPENCER  S   CAPTIVITY.  39 

to  the  men  in  the  canoe,  saw  Mr.  Light  spring  sud- 
denly into  the  river,  and  the  stranger  at  the  stern 
fall  over  toward  the  shore.  At  the  next  instant,  the 
sharp  crack  of  two  rifles  in  quick  succession  was 
heard,  and,  looking  toward  the  willows,  the  boy  saw, 
through  the  thick  smoke  of  their  guns,  two  Indians, 
with  faces  black  as  midnight,  rushing  toward  the 
canoe. 

The  feelings  of  the  solitary  witness  of  this  terri- 
ble affair,  who  was  himself  so  soon  to  experience, 
a  treatment  scarcely  less  merciless,  may  perhaps  be 
imagined,  but  certainly  can  not  be  adequately  de- 
scribed. For  an  instant  he  stood  motionless,  and 
in  this  instant  his  brief  reflection  was,  as  he  invol- 
untarily drew  down  his  head  between  his  shoulders: 
/  have  made  some  narrow  escapes,  but  now  death  is 
inevitable!  One  Indian  was,  by  this  time,  within  ten 
feet  of  him ;  in  his  right  hand  was  the  uplifted  toma- 
hawk, and  in  his  left  the  naked  scalping  knife.  Con- 
trolled by  a  sort  of  instinct,  the  boy  ran  toward  the 
water,  hoping  to  reach  the  canoe,  and  push  out  into 
the  river.  As  he  did  so,  the  Indian  passed  above 
him  down  to  the  shore,  where  the  body  of  the  dead 
stranger  lay.  Striking  his  tomahawk  into  the  head 
of  the  unfortunate  man,  and  seizing  him  by  the  hair, 
the  Indian  passed  his  knife  quickly  round  the  scalp, 
and,  tearing  it  violently  off,  held  it  up  for  a  moment 
in  fiendish  exultation.  Finding  that  he  could  not  gain 
the  canoe,  which  by  this  time  had  got  out  into  the 
current,  and  turning  from  the  heart  sickening  sight 
of  the  mangled  man,  dreading  every  moment  a  simi- 


4O  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

lar  fate,  Spencer  next  attempted  to  escape  by 
running ;  but  he  had  not  gone  ten  steps,  when  the 
other  Indian  discovered  his  design  and  checked 
him.  Instead,  however,  of  seizing  him  violently, 
his  captor  approached  within  a  few  feet  and  ex- 
tended his  hand  in  token  of  peace.  This  proffer 
was  not  unwelcome ;  for,  from  what  he  had  heard 
of  the  character  and  customs  of  the  Indians,  Spencer 
now  knew  that  he  was  in  no  immediate  danger, 
and  therefore  became  comparatively  calm. 

The  whole  of  these  events  did  not  occupy  more 
than  thirty  seconds.  The  Indians  had  been  on  the 
hill  in  quest  of  horses,  when,  hearing  the  loud  crying 
of  a  child  in  a  canoe  that  had  descended  the  stream 
about  ten  minutes  before,  they  came  down  to  the 
bank  of  the  river,  thinking  they  might  have  an  oppor- 
tunity of  doing  some  mischief.  Arriving  too  late 
to  injure  those  in  the  first  canoe,  and  discovering 
the  second  one  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  below,  the 
Indians  determined  to  await  its  approach ;  and,  hav- 
ing planned  to  kill  "the  men  and  woman,  and  to 
take  the  youth  a  prisoner,  they  concealed  themselves 
behind  a  large  log  among  the  willows,  from  which, 
as  the  voyagers  came  nearly  opposite,  they  made 
their  attack. 

Taking  a  last  brief  glance  at  the  scene  before 
him,  Spencer  now  saw  that  Mr.  Light,  though 
wounded  in  the  left  arm,  was  making  the  best  of 
his  way  to  the  opposite  shore,  swimming  bravely 
out  into  the  stream  about  a  hundred  yards  from 
the  bank.  The  dead  body  of  the  stranger  lay  just 


"THE  GREAT  FATHER"  AT  WASHINGTON. 


SPENCER  S    CAPTIVITY.  43 

at  the  edge  of  the  water;  and  Mrs.  Coleman,  about 
two  rods  out  in  the  river,  with  her  clothes  spread 
over  the  water,  and  her  head  just  above  the  surface, 
was  floating,  apparently  drowned.  The  empty  canoe 
had  drifted  out  into  the  stream,  and  was  slowly  de- 
scending with  the  current. 

The  Indians  now  hurriedly  led  off  their  prisoner, — 
the  one  who  had  captured  him  holding  him  firmly  by 
the  hand,  and  the  other  following  close  behind,  with 
his  tomahawk  extended  almost  above  his  head.  Thus 
securely  guarded,  the  youthful  prisoner  was  led  into 
the  forest  and  up  the  high  hill  bordering  the  Ohio, — 
straightway  beginning  his  long  and  trying  period  of 
captivity,  exposure  and  suffering. 

Crossing  the  road  a  short  distance  further  on,  the 
Indians  stopped  a  few  moments  on  the  hillside ;  and, 
after  casting  their  keen  glances  around  them,  and 
listening  intently  as  if  hearing  some  sound  indica- 
tive of  danger,  they  resumed  their  retreat,  apparently 
satisfied  that  they  were  undiscovered.  Quickly  gain- 
ing the  top  of  the  hill,  they  ran  off,  in  a  northerly 
direction,  at  the  height  of  their  speed,  one  of  them 
still  holding  the  boy  by  the  hand,  and  the  other  fol- 
lowing with  his  uplifted  tomahawk. 

Having  gone  about  four  miles,  the  Indian  whom 
Spencer  now  regarded  as  his  master,  seeing  that  his 
prisoner's  feet  were  bare,  supplied  him  with  a  pair  of 
moccasins.  In  return  for  these,  the  boy  offered  him 
his  pocket-handkerchief,  which  the  savage  took  with 
an  expression  of  great  pleasure,  receiving  it  as  a 
token  of  gratitude.  To  the  other  Indian,  who  hacj 


44  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

now  put  his  tomahawk  in  his  belt,  Spencer,  fearing 
that  he  might  have  excited  his  jealousy,  presented 
his  hat — a  gift  which  was  not  so  well  received,  for  he 
dashed  it  on  the  ground  as  worthless ;  but,  instantly 
picking  it  up  (thinking,  no  doubt,  it  might  direct  pur- 
suit), he  carried  it  in  his  hand  until  evening,  when  he 
burned  it.  Relaxing  their  speed  (although  the  long 
strides  of  the  Indians  kept  the  young  prisoner  at  a 
constant  run),  and  still  pursuing  a  northerly  course, 
they  reached,  about  an  hour  before  sunset,  a  small 
stream  running  in  a  westerly  direction.  Entering 
this  stream,  they  waded  up  it  about  half  a  mile, 
the  leading  Indian  directing  Spencer  to  step  in  his 
tracks,  while  the  other  followed  treading  in  his. 
After  proceeding  for  about  a  mile  further  north,  they 
encamped,  at  sunset,  on  a  low  point  of  thick  under- 
wood, near  a  rivulet. 

Here,  while  one  Indian  kindled  a  fire,  the  other  went 
in  pursuit  of  game,  and  soon  returning  with  a  rac- 
coon, which  he  had  killed  with  his  rifle,  proceeded  to 
dress  it  by  singeing  off  the  hair,  and  then  dividing  it, 
broiled  it  on  the  fire.  The  Indians  ate  voraciously, 
but,  being  exceedingly  weary,  Spencer  could  eat  very 
little;  besides,  he  had  just  witnessed  a  most  sickening 
scene,  calculated  for  a  time  to  destroy  all  relish  for 
food.  While  his  captor  was  dressing  the  raccoon  for 
supper,  the  other  Indian,  Wawpawwawquaw,  or  White 
Loon  by  name,  drawing  from  its  sheath  his  large  brass- 
handled  knife,  and  cutting  off  the  limb  of  a  small  grub, 
took  from  his  bullet-pouch  the  black  scalp  recently 
torn  from  the  head  of  the  unfortunate  white  man,  and 


SPENCER  S    CAPTIVITY.  45 

cutting  a  small  hole  near  its  edge,  and  hanging  it  on 
the  stump  of  the  severed  limb,  deliberately  and  care- 
fully scraped  off  the  thick  fat ;  then,  forming  a  small 
hoop,  about  six  inches  in  diameter,  with  a  thread  of 
deer's  sinew  stretched  the  scalp  within  it,  as  if  he  had 
been  preparing  to  dry  the  skin  of  an  animal.  Having 
finished  their  meal,  the  Indians  prepared  for  rest. 
First  tying  a  cord  around  their  prisoner's  neck,  and  then 
extending  its  ends  around  his  wrists  separately,  they 
spread  a  blanket  on  the  ground,  and  ordered  him  to 
lie  down.  The  Indians  then  placed  themselves  one  on 
each  side  of  the  lad,  and,  passing  the  ends  of  the  cord 
under  their  bodies,  and  covering  themselves  with  the 
remaining  blanket,  soon  sank  into  a  profound  sleep. 

For  some  time  the  boy  lay  ruminating  on  the  sad 
events  of  the  day;  his  mind  filled  partly  with  fearful 
apprehensions  of  the  future,  and  partly  with  thoughts 
of  his  home,  to  which  he  feared  that  he  should  never 
return.  Here,  as  he  thought  of  his  beloved  parents 
and  affectionate  sisters,  and  felt  for  the  moment  that 
he  should  never  again  behold  them,  tears  of  bitter 
regret  flowed  plentifully,  and  he  could  scarcely  re- 
press his  sobs.  Gradually,  however,  he  became  more 
calm,  and  at  length,  overcome  by  fatigue,  dropped 
asleep,  forgetting  for  a  period  all  his  sorrows. 

It  is  now  time  to  return  to  Spencer's  two  surviving 
companions  of  the  canoe  adventure,  Mr.  Light  and 
Mrs.  Coleman,  one  of  whom,  severely  wounded,  \ve 
left  battlino-  with  the  current  of  the  Ohio,  and  the 

o 

other,  apparently  past  all  rescue,  floating  helplessly 
on  the  surface  of  the  water.  Mr.  Light,  as  Spencer 


46  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

afterward  learned,  upon  seeing  the  Indians  retreat, 
returned  to  the  Ohio  shore,  and,  evidently  thinking 
the  old  woman  to  be  drowned,  did  not  attempt  to 
save  her,  but  immediately  set  out  for  Cincinnati, 
where  he  soon  arrived,  and  communicated  to  the  gar- 
rison the  shocking  events  of  the  day.  The  com- 
manding officer  immediately  despatched  an  express 
to  Colonel  Spencer,  informing  him  of  his  son's  cap- 
ture, and  proposing  to  send  out  a  small  force  of 
regulars.  While  the  news  was  spreading,  a  number 
of  the  inhabitants  of  Columbia  assembled,  anxious 
to  pursue  the  Indians ;  but  Mr.  Spencer,  fearful 
that,  on  finding  themselves  hard-pressed,  they  would 
instantly  kill  their  prisoner,  returned  by  the  express 
a  request  that  no  troops  should  be  sent  after  them, 
and,  with  some  difficulty  dissuading  his  neighbors 
from  their  proposed  pursuit,  obtained  their  promise 
that  they  would  proceed  no  farther  than  the  spot 
where  the  dead  man  still  lay. 

We  have  said  that,  upon,  reaching  the  shore,  Mr. 
Light  set  out  at  once  for  Fort  Washington,  under 
the  impression  that  he  was  the  only  one  who  had 
escaped.  Judge,  then,  of  his  astonishment  upon 
learning,  shortly  after  his  arrival,  of  the 'safety  of 
Mrs.  Coleman,  and  hearing  from  her  own  lips  the 
almost  incredible  story  of  her  escape.  Improbable 
as  it  may  seem,  after  jumping  from  the  canoe  into 
the  river,  the  old  woman  had  floated  with  the  cur- 
rent quite  down  to  Cincinnati,  where  she  was  taken 
out  of  the  water  alive,  and,  after  recovering  from 
the  exhaustion  so  natural  after  a  passage  of  this  ex- 


SPENCER  S    CAPTIVITY.  47 

tmordinary  character,  had  confirmed  the  report  of 
the  day's  disaster  which  had  already  been  made  by 
Mr.  Light.  That  a  person  rendered  totally  helpless 
by  inability  to  swim  could  thus  escape  a  watery  death 
which  seemed  inevitable,  is  a  circumstance  so  remark- 
able as  to  be  almost  past  belief;  but  its  truth  was 
afterwards  frequently  asserted  to  Mr.  Spencer  by 
Mrs.  Coleman  herself,  as  well  as  by  others  of  un- 
doubted veracity,  some  of  whom  had  assisted  in 
taking  her  out  of  the  water. 

The  news  of  young  Spencer's  capture  caused  a 
sensation  of  profound  sorrow  among  all  who  had 
known  him,  both  in  Columbia  and  at  Fort  Washing- 
ton, for  he  was  a  boy  of  uncommon  brightness, 
amiability,  and  promise ;  and  the  most  sincere  sym- 
pathy was  extended  by  all  to  his  afflicted  parents, 
who  had  thus  been  bereaved,  by  a  calamity  worse 
than  death,  of  an  only  and  dearly-beloved  son.  The 
shock  to  his  parents,  and  especially  to  his  mother,  was 
almost  unsupportable.  Often,  when  she  thought  of 
him,  she  fancied  that  she  saw  him  fainting  with  fatigue, 
or  famishing  with  hunger,  or  pining  with  disease;  and 
sometimes  her  terrified  imagination  represented  him 
falling  by  the  knife,  or  sinking  under  the  stroke  of 
the  tomahawk,  or  expiring  at  the  stake  in  the  flames., 
under  the  most  cruel  tortures.  Nor  was  she  relieved 
from  these  distressing  apprehensions,  and  this  painful 
state  of  suspense,  until  some  time  in  the  November 
following,  when  certain  information  was  received  from 
the  commanding  officer  at  Post  Vincennes  that  her 
son  was  still  alive,  and  had  been  seen  at  the  Indian 


48  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

village,  near  the  mouth  of  Auglaize,  only  a  few  weeks 
before,  by  Captain  Wells  (an  Indian  agent,  who  was 
killed  at  the  capture  of  Chicago,  in  the  War  of 
1812),  at  that  time  a  prisoner  at  large  among  the 
Indians. 

With  the  dawn  of  the  morning  of  the  8th  of  July 
the  Indians  awoke,  and,  untying  the  cord  with  which 
their  captive  was  bound,  arose.  A  scanty  breakfast 
was  soon  made  from  the  remains  of  the  raccoon 
which  had  been  killed  for  their  supper.  The  bag- 
gage, consisting  of  two  blankets,  a  bridle,  a  cord, 
and  a  scalp,  was  shouldered,  the  priming  of  the 
rifles  was  examined,  and,  before  the  sun  arose,  all 
were  marching  in  single  file,  in  the  direction  of  the 
Shawnee  villages.  About  noon  they  passed  along  the 
east  side  of  a  hill,  beyond  which  there  appeared  to 
be  a  large  opening;  and  here  the  Indians  moved  cau- 
tiously, half  bent,  and  with  trailed  rifles.  Proceeding 
about  half  a  mile,  they  halted  in  a  deep  ravine ;  when 
White  Loon,  taking  the  bridle,  and  pursuing  a  west- 
erly course  down  the  hollow,  soon  disappeared.  In 
about  ten  minutes,  however,  he  returned,  mounted  on 
a  fine  cream-colored  horse,  which  he  had  just  stolen, 
and,  taking  the  boy  up  behind  him,  trotted  off  several 
miles,  the  other  Indian  following,  until,  coming  to  a 
thick  undergrowth,  they  slacked  their  pace  into  a 
brisk  walk.  Here  they  found  a  faint  trace,  which,  pur- 
suing a  few  miles,  led  them  into  a  plain  path,  which, 
as  Spencer  afterward  learned,  was  the  Indians'  war 
path. 


SPENCER  S    CAPTIVITY.  49 

The  Indians  seemed  highly  pleased  with  their  late 
acquisition,  riding  the  spirited  animal  by  turns.  But, 
alas,  how  uncertain  are  the  comforts  of  this  world! 
About  the  middle  of  the  afternoon  the  horse  sud- 
denly became  dull,  and  seemingly  sullen,  so  that  he 
could  be  urged  forward  with  difficulty.  At  length 
he  stopped  short.  He  had  been  violently  attacked 
with  either  bots  or  colic,  and,  now  lying  suddenly 
down,  began  to  roll  and  groan,  sometimes  struggling 
with  every  limb,  and  sometimes  dashing  his  head 
against  the  ground.  The  Indians  stood  over  him, 
now  beating  him  severely,  and  now  talking  to  him  in 
Indian,  as  if  expostulating  with  him,  or  threatening 
him  with  vengeance  in  case  of  his  remaining  stub- 
born ;  but  their  threats  had  no  more  effect  than  their 
blows,  and  they  finally  were  obliged  to  leave  him  in 
the  path,  and  proceed  without  him. 

This  evening  the  party  encamped  in  a  low,  rich 
bottom,  near  a  beautiful  stream,  where,  having  made 
a  fire,  and  roasted  part  of  a  young  fawn,  which 
White  Loon  had  a  few  minutes  before  killed,  they 
ate  a  very  hearty  supper,  though  without  salt  or 
bread.  After  their  meal,  taking  a  small  piece  of 
tobacco,  and  cutting  it  fine  by  passing  the  edge  of 
his  knife  between  his  fore-finger  and  thumb,  and 
receiving  it  as  thus  prepared  into  the  palm  of 
his  left  hand,  the  White  Loon,  with  great  solemnity 
and  apparent  devotion,  sprinkled  a  few  grains  of  it 
on  the  coals,  an  offering,  as  Spencer  afterward  un- 
derstood, to  the  Great  Spirit.  The  Indian  then  min- 
gled the  rest  of  the  tobacco  with  some  dried 


5O  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

sumach  leaves,  which  he  drew  from  his  bullet- 
pouch,  and,  filling  the  bowl  of  his  tomahawk,  smoked 
a  whiff  or  two,  and  then  handed  the  pipe  to  his 
companion,  who,  after  smoking  a  few  moments,  re- 
turned it.  The  Indians  thus  puffed  alternately  until 
the  tobacco  was  consumed,  frequently  filling  their 
mouths  with  smoke  and  forcing  it  through  their  nos- 
trils, closing  their  brief  use  of  the  pipe  with  a  peculiar 
suck  of  the  breath,  and  slight  grinding  of  the  teeth. 
The  day  had  been  remarkably  fine ;  they  had  traveled, 
with  short  intermissions,  from  early  dawn  until  sunset, 
a  distance  of  at  least  forty  miles;  and,  very  weary, 
they  lay  down  under  a  spreading  beech,  and  soon  fell 
into  a  profound  sleep. 

They  had  slept  only  a  few  hours,  when  they  were 
awakened  by  the  roar  of  a  tremendous  hurricane 
passing  a  few  rods  north,  of  them,  prostrating  the 
trees  with  a  terrible  crash,  and  carrying  devastation 
in  its  broad  track.  Over  their  heads  the  thunder 
broke  with  deafening  peals,  and  the  lightnings  seemed 
a  constant  sheet  of  flame.  Spencer  sprang  from  the 
ground,  and,  gazing  on  the  awful  scene,  stood  motion- 
less with  terror.  Expecting  every  moment  to  perish, 
he  remained  for  a  short  time  unconscious  of  the 
presence  of  a  human  being;  but,  his  fear  subsiding 
a  little,  he  ventured  to  look  at  the  Indians,  who  were 
standing  near  him.  He  saw  them  perfectly  calm,  ap- 
parently insensible  of  danger,  gazing  with  a  sort  of 
delighted  wonder,  and,  as  the  lightning  flashed  from 
the  dense  clouds,  expressing  their  admiration  with 
their  customary  exclamation :  Wawhaugh !  waugh ! 


SPENCER'S  CAPTIVITY.  51 

On  the  morning  of  the  9th,  the  sun  rose  brightly 
above  the  cloudless  horizon,  and  shone  upon  a  sky  as 
clear  and  beautiful  as  if  it  had  never  heen  darkened 
by  clouds  or  torn  by  tempests ;  and,  but  for  the  bent 
tree  tops  above,  and  the  wide-spread  devastation  all 
around,  one  could  scarcely  have  believed  that  in  the 
heavens,  so  bright  and  tranquil,  desolation  and  ter- 
ror had  so  lately  held  their  empire. 

Pursuing  their  journey  with  difficulty, — for  the 
fallen  trees  greatly  obstructed  their  progress, — they 
came,  after  a  while,  to  a  comparatively  open  space ; 
and  here  they  traveled  with  their  former  expedition. 
Presently  the  tinkling  of  a  bell  was  heard  in  the  dis- 
tance, and  Wawpawwawquaw,  again  acting  as  the 
forager  of  the  party,  went  in  the  direction  whence  it 
issued.  He  returned  in  about  half  an  hour  with  an 
old  black  horse,  probably  a  pack-horse  belonging  to 
the  army,  which  had  strayed  off.  Suspended  from 
his  neck,  by  a  broad  leathern  strap,  was  a  large  bell, 
which  the  Indians  stuffed  with  grass  to  prevent  its 
tinkling.  This  horse,  though  not  so  good  as  the  one 
that  had  been  lost,  was  esteemed  a  valuable  acquisi- 
tion, particularly  by  the  weary  prisoner.  He  mounted 
the  old  horse, — a  natural  pacer, — and  rode  very  pleas- 
antly, without  interruption ;  for  the  Indians  did  not 
seem  at  all  disposed  to  share  it  with  him,  but  strode 
sturdily  forward,  apparently  insensible  to  fatigue. 

Towards  the  evening  of  the  third  day,  the  travelers 
halted  on  the  south  bank  of  a  beautiful  stream  near 
a  small  grove.  Here  the  Indians  hoppled  the  horse, 
unstopped  his  bell,  and  turned  him  loose  to  graze. 


52  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

This  done,  they  proceeded  to  secure  their  prisoner, 
whom  they  ordered  to  sit  down  with-his  back  against 
a  small  tree,  and  to  this  they  lashed  him  firmly  with 
a  strong  cord,  passing  it  around  his  neck,  and  then 
with  a  knot  around  his  wrists  separately,  fastening 
one  end  to  a  stake  which  they  had  driven  into  the 
ground,  and  the  other  to  a  root  in  the  bank  of  the 
stream.  Placing  a  large  piece  of  bark  over  the  boy's 
head,  to  shelter  him  from  the  sun,  they  then  left  him, 
and,  taking  their  rifles,  went  out  to  hunt. 

Left  thus  to  himself,  young  Spencer  fell  to  reflect- 
ing upon  the  various  circumstances  of  his  captivity, 
and  speculating  upon  his  prospects  for  the  future. 
It  is  not  strange,  therefore,  that  the  thought  of  mak- 
ing his  escape  suddenly  presented  itself  forcibly  to 
his  mind,  and  that,  acting  upon  his  first  impulse,  he 
promptly  set  about  to  free  himself,  if  possible.  We 
have  seen  that  he  was  of  a  remarkably  adventurous 
disposition,  and  that  he  had  a  shrewdness,  judgment, 
and  resolution  quite  unusual  for  one  so  young.  All 
of  these  qualities  now  stood  him  in  good  stead,  and 
enabled  him  to  act  a  part  which  would  have  done  no 
discredit  to  one  of  maturer  years  and  greater  phys- 
ical capacity. 

Seizing  the  cord  with  which  he  was  bound,  he  at 
first  pulled  it  violently,  attempting  to  break  it,  or 
to  detach  it  from  the  root  to  which  it  was  fastened; 
but,  failing  in  this  attempt,  he  next  laid  hold  of  it 
with  his  left  hand,  and  endeavored  to  pull  it  from 
the  stake.  This  effort  was  equally  fruitless,  and  his 
endeavor  must  have  been  without  success  had  he  not 


SPENCERS    CAPTIVITY.  53 

noticed  that  the  cord  was  tied  on  the  outside  of  the 
cuff  of  his  sleeve,  and  that  he  might  possibly  draw 
his  arm  through  it.  This  he  succeeded  in  doing,  and, 
after  freeing  one  hand,  he  disengaged  the  other  in 
the  same  way,  and  soon  found  himself  at  liberty. 

His  next  care  was  to  secure  some  provisions  for 
his  journey;  and  then,  bridling  and  mounting  the 
horse,  he  took  the  path  which  he  had  previously 
followed  with  the  Indians,  and  set  out  in  the 
homeward  direction,  hoping  that,  if  he  could  obtain 
a  start  of  a  few  miles  before  his  absence  was  dis- 
covered, he  would  be  comparatively  safe.  And, 
indeed,  it  seems  very  probable  that,  had  he  been 
able  to  travel  with  expedition,  he  would  soon  have 
placed  himself  beyond  the  reach  of  his  pursuers, 
and,  barring  accidents,  have  accomplished  his  ulti- 
mate purpose.  Unhappily,  however,  his  wishes  and 
expectations  traveled  faster  than  his  horse,  which, 
although  he  used  all  his  exertions,  he  could  not 
urge  beyond  a  moderate  pace.  He  traveled  steadily, 
however,  until  sunset,  when  he  dismounted,  and, 
bending  a  small  twig  by  the  path  in  the  direction  of 
home,  he  led  the  animal  a  few  hundred  yards  from 
the  trace  up  a  slope  of  woodland  into  a  thicket  of 
sassafras,  and,  securing  him  with  the  bridle,  went  in 
search  of  a  lodging-place. 

About  sixty  yards  from  the  thicket,  he  found  a  large 
fallen  tree  which,  having  near  its  roots  a  spacious 
hollow,  afforded  a  tolerable  shelter.  Here  he  deter- 
mined to  pass  the  night,  but  first  set  about  to  pre- 
pare his  evening  meal.  He  had  brought  with  him 


54  THE  BACK-WOODSMEN. 

a  piece  of  dried  deer's  meat,  but  he  very  prudently 
resolved  to  lay  this  aside  for  the  following  day,  when 
he  would  need  it  more.  He  therefore  made  his  sup- 
per on  raspberries,  which  grew  in  great  abundance, 
and,  straying  from  bush  to  bush,  eagerly  picking  and 
eating  to  satisfy  his  hunger,  paid  very  little  attention 
to  the  direction  he  was  taking.  To  his  great  alarm, 
after  having  eaten  all  that  he  wanted,  he  found  that 
he  had  lost  his  way,  and,  terrified  at  the  thought  of 
dying  in  the  wilderness,  ran  hither  and  thither  in 
search  of  the  spot  which  he  had  marked  as  his 
night's  resting-place.  This  he  fortunately  found, 
though  after  a  great  deal  of  trouble,  and,  exhausted 
with  his  day's  adventures,  had  little  difficulty  in  com- 
posing himself  to  rest. 

He  had  lain  for  only  a  few  moments,  his  mind 
alternately  occupied  with  hopeful  anticipations  of  safe 
and  happy  return,  and  despairing  fears  of  being 
again  captured  by  the  Indians,  or  falling  a  prey  to 
wild  beasts,  when  he  was  aroused  by  the  cracking  of 
bushes  and  a  noise  like  that  from  short  strokes  on  the 
ground  made  in  rapid  succession.  The  cause  of  this 
noise  he  soon  perceived  to  be  a  herd  of  deer,  which, 
bounding  through  the  woods,  swiftly  approached  him, 
one  of  them  springing  over  the  log  under  which  he 
lay,  and  the  others  leaping  between  him  and  the 
thicket.  After  they  had  disappeared,  he  again  lay 
down,  only  to  be  aroused  by  an  incident  equally  un- 
expected, and,  as  it  proved,  far  more  unpleasant. 
Hearing  a  slight  rustling  in  the  bushes,  he  raised 
himself  on  his  elbow  and  looked  in  the  direction  from 


SPENCER'S  CAPTIVITY.  57 

which  it  came.  His  consternation  was  no  less  than 
his  amazement  when  he  saw  the  two  savages,  one 
of  whom  had  seized  the  horse  by  the  bridle,  look- 
ing in  every  direction,  endeavoring  to  discover  his 
retreat.  Recovering  his  self-possession  in  an  instant, 
the  boy  was  not  slow  in  comprehending  the  situation. 
He  wisely  concluded  that,  if  he  waited  for  the  Indians 
to  find  him,  they,  out  of  rage  and  mortification,  would 
tomahawk  him  where  he  lay;  and  he  therefore  im- 
mediately left  his  hiding-place,  and,  falling  on  his 
knees,  and  begging  their  pardon,  gave  himself  up. 

"I  think,"  says  Mr.  Spencer,  writing  of  this  inci- 
dent many  years  after,  in  his  interesting  narrative  of 
his  captivity, — "  I  think  that  I  can  now  see  the  hor- 
rible savage,  my  master,  grinding  his  teeth  with  rage, 
and,  with  a  look  of  fiendish  malice  that  almost  froze 
my  blood,  raise  his  rifle  to  his  shoulder,  intending  to 
shoot  me.  Were  my  mother's  prayers  now  ascending 
before  the  throne?  Was  my  father  now  supplicating 
for  his  lost  son  ?  Or  had  the  Father  of  mercies  said, 
4  Lay  not  thine  hand  upon  the  lad'?" 

Just  at  the  moment  that  the  Indian  was  about  to 
discharge  his  gun,  his  companion  generously  inter- 
posed, and,  throwing  up  its  muzzle,  saved  the  boy's 
life.  A  brief  altercation,  and  then  a  few  moments' 
earnest  conversation  followed,  when,  setting  down 
their  rifles,  the  Indians  cut  several  large  switches, 
with  which  they  proceeded  to  chastise  the  offender, 
beating  him  mercilessly  for  several  minutes  over  the 
head,  face,  and  shoulders.  After  administering  this 

punishment,  they  gave  the  boy  to  understand  that  if 
4 


58  THE   BACK-WOODSMEN. 

he  again  attempted  to  escape  they  would  surely  kill 
and  scalp  him;  and  then,  regaining  the  path,  pro- 
ceeded on  their  journey. 

After  a  few  hours'  weary  march,  during  which  the 
lad, — who  was  this  time  compelled  to  walk, — suffered 
the  most  barbarous  usage,  being  repeatedly  goaded 
with  a  sharp-pointed  stick,  and  beaten  with  switches 
by  his  master,  who  rode  behind  him,  they  reached  the 
place  where  the  Indians  had  intended  to  camp  during 
the  night.  The  young  prisoner,  who  fancied  that  the 
ill  treatment  which  he  had  already  received  would 
purchase  him  at  least  a  night's  respite  from  punish- 
ment, was  now  tied  upright  to  a  stake,  with  his  hands 
pinioned  so  closely  behind  his  back  as  almost  to  dis- 
locate his  shoulders,  and  his  wrists  bound  so  tightly 
that  the  blood  could  scarcely  circulate.  In  this  pain- 
ful position,  with  his  head  bruised  and  swollen,  and 
every  limb  in  his  body  suffering  from  torture  and 
fatigue,  he  passed  a  night  of  unspeakable  agony, 
and,  forgetting  the  late  interpositions  of  Providence, 
murmured  against  God  and  longed  for  death. 

At  daybreak  the  Indians,  after  eating  their  break- 
fast, unbound  the  suffering  prisoner,  and,  without 
offering  him  any  food,  urged  him  forward  with  the 
same  speed  as  they  had  done  the  night  previous. 
About  noon  they  descended  into  a  rich  bottom,  and 
halted  on  the  bank  of  a  small  creek  near  a  fine 
spring.  Near  this  spring  grew  an  immense  syca- 
more, hollow  at  the  bottom,  and  having  on  one  side 
an  opening  about  six  feet  high,  barricaded  with  logs 
covered  with  brush.  The  Indians  immediately  went 


SPENCER  S    CAPTIVITY.  59 

to  the  tree,  removed  the  brush,  looked  into  the  hol- 
low space  for  a  moment,  and  then  returned,  appar- 
ently satisfied.  They  now  made  a  fire,  and  pre- 
pared their  dinner,  which  was  of  roasted  squirrels. 
They  ate  their  meal  in  silence,  taking  no  notice  of  the 
boy,  who  was  by  this  time  suffering  the  extremities  of 
hunger,  having  eaten  nothing  for  thirty  hours  but 
raspberries.  Besides  his  distress  for  want  of  food, 
he  was  laboring  under  the  effects  of  a  severe  dysen- 
tery, with  which  he  had  been  seized  in  the  morning; 
and  the  pains  which  he  suffered  from  his  bodily 
bruises  had  by  no  means  subsided.  He  sat  for  a 
time  silent  and  very  despondent.  Looking  toward 
the  opening  of  the  hollow  sycamore,  he  saw  that  it 
appeared  black  within,  as  if  it  had  been  burned ; 
and  he  was  now  suddenly  seized  with  the  terrible 
apprehension  that  in  this  hole  the  Indians  intended 
to  kindle  a  fire  and  burn  him, — an  apprehension 
which  was  increased  when  he  reflected  upon  their 
harsh  and  beastly  treatment  of  him.  He  was,  how- 
ever, soon  relieved  from  his  dreadful  anxiety,  for, 
after  finishing  their  dinner,  the  Indians  led  the  horse 
to  the  tree,  and  by  its  aid  dragged  away  the  logs 
from  the  opening;  and  the  hollow  which  had  been 
thus  barricaded  now  appeared  to  be  a  rude  Indian 
cabin  for  storing  property.  From  this  cabin  the 
Indians  took  a  variety  of  articles,  such  as  blankets, 
deer-skins,  a  brass  kettle,  etc.,  and,  loading  the  horse 
with  them,  they  once  more  continued  on  their  way. 

From  the  conduct  of  the  Indians  since  his  capture 
the   evening  before,  Spencer   had  reason  to  believe 


6O  THE   BACK-WOODSMEN. 

that  he  had  changed  masters, — and  this  belief  was 
afterwards  confirmed.  Wawpawwawquaw,  his  new 
master,  was  the  son  of  a  Mohawk  chief,  and,  on 
account  of  the  almost  total  destruction  of  his  nation, 
had  joined  the  Shawnees.  He  was  brave  and  fierce 
in  battle,  but  at  all  other  times,  unless  provoked, 
was,  for  a  savage,  remarkably  humane  and  kind. 
As  for  the  first  Indian, — a  Shawnee, — he  was  an 
ugly  and  rascally  looking  fellow  in  countenance, 
and  his  appearance  did  not  belie  his  actual  nature, 
for  he  was  wicked,  brutal,  and  treacherous  beyond 
most  of  his  race. 

This  night  the  party  camped  at  a  place  six  miles 
west  from  the  present  town  of  Sidney,  on  the 
Great  Miami.  Here,  for  the  first  time  in  thirty- 
six  hours,  the  captive  made  a  hearty  meal  and 
slept  soundly,  awaking  greatly  refreshed  in  the 
morning. 

Resuming  their  journey,  they  met,  on  the  follow- 
ing afternoon,  a  party  of  Indian  hunters,  the  first 
human  beings  that  they  had  seen  since  leaving  the 
banks  of  the  Ohio.  In  response  to  inquiries,  White 
Loon  (as  Spencer  knew  from  his  frequent  and  sig- 
nificant gestures),  entered  into  a  detailed  account 
of  the  incidents  connected  with  the  ambush  they 
had  set  for  their  victims,  the  surprise  and  the  fatal 
attack,  and  finally  exhibited  as  a  trophy  the  scalp 
which  he  had  taken.  After  purchasing  of  the  hunt- 
ers, for  a  small  silver  broach,  a  piece  of  dried  veni- 
son, the  Indians  went  on  their  way,  following  the 
course  of  a  small  stream,  which  they  had  reached 


SPENCER'S  CAPTIVITY.  61 

the  same  morning,  and  which  afterwards  proved  to 
be  the  Auglaize. 

Three  hours  after  sunset,  on  the  I2th  of  July, 
1790,  the  travelers  came  in  sight  of  an  Indian  vil- 
lage. Wawpawwawquaw  now  cut  a  long  pole,  tied 
the  scalp  to  the  end  of  it,  and,  lifting  it  in  the  air, 
raised  the  scalp  halloo,  a  shrill  whoop,  which  both 
Indians  repeated  frequently  as  they  neared  the  town. 
They  found  all  the  inhabitants,  men,  women,  and 
children,  numbering  altogether  about  twenty,  assem- 
bled; and,  when  the  first  greetings  had  been  ex- 
changed, Wawpawwawquaw  stood  up  before  the 
company,  and,  with  the  gravity  and  dignity  peculiar 
to  an  Indian  warrior,  related  his  story. 

While  he  was  reciting  the  incidents  of  the  attack, 
a  little  old  Indian  suddenly  sprang  upon  the  boy, 
threw  him  violently  on  the  ground,  and  gave  a  loud 
shout,  accompanied  by  extravagant  gestures  and  ex- 
clamations,— signifying  that  he  had  vanquished  his 
enemy.  At  this,  the  squaws  began  to  scream,  and 
the  children,  down  to  even  the  small  pappoose,  set 
up  a  shrill  cry;  and,  had  not  his  extreme  weakness 
excited  the  pity,  and,  therefore,  enlisted  the  protec- 
tion, of  Wawpawwawquaw,  the  unfortunate  prisoner 
would  inevitably  have  been  obliged,  young  as  he  was, 
to  run  the  gauntlet. 

From  this  first  village  they  soon  took  their  de- 
parture, and  arrived,  about  noon,  at  a  second  one, 
further  down  the  river.  Here  the  inhabitants,  although 
they  showed  equal  curiosity,  were  much  more  civil; 
and  an  elderly  and  noble-looking  Indian, — probably 


62  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

the  village  chief, — took  the  party  to  his  cabin,  and 
had  a  good  meal  of  boiled  hominy,  corn-cake,  and 
venison  prepared  for  them.  The  young  prisoner, 
who  was  almost  famished,  ate  eagerly,  and,  after 
finishing  his  dinner,  to  show  his  gratitude,  arose  and, 
handing  his  hostess  the  bowl  out  of  which  he  had 
eaten,  bowed  low  and  thanked  her.  She  smiled  and 
said :  Enee  ;  that  is  right;  you  are  welcome  ;  it  is  nothing. 

After  leaving  the  second  village,  they  traveled  lei- 
surely. Toward  evening,  they  stopped  at  an  Indian 
cabin  on  the  way,  occupied  by  Wawpunnoo,  a  brother 
of  Wawpawwawqua.w.  Here,  for  the  first  time  in  six 
nights,  they  slept  under  shelter,  the  prisoner  lying  on 
a  deer-skin  with  a  blanket  over  him,  and  resting  com- 
fortably. 

A  little  before  noon  of  the  i3th  of  July,  they  ar- 
rived at  the  end  of  their  long  and  tedious  journey, 
having  traveled  six  days  through  the  wilderness,  and 
passed  over  a  distance  of  not  less  than  one  hundred 
and  sixty  miles.  The  village  which  proved  to  be 
their  destination  was  situated  at  the  confluence  of 
the  Auglaize  and  Maumee  rivers ;  and  here,  selling 
their  deer-skins  to  a  British  Indian  trader,  the  In- 
dians crossed  the  Maumee  to  a  small  bark-cabin. 
Here  they  left  their  prisoner  in  care  of  an  old 
woman, — the  mother  of  Wawpawwawquaw,  —  and 
departed  for  their  homes  in  the  village  below,  about 
a  mile  distant. 

Weak,  exhausted,  and  suffering, — his  body  ema- 
ciated from  hunger  and  sickness,  and  his  limbs 
swollen  and  aching  in  every  joint  from  cruel,  bleed- 


SPENCER'S  CAPTIVITY.  63 

ing,  and  festering  wounds, — it  is  not  strange  that, 
upon  the  conclusion  of  his  trying  journey,  the  poor 
lad  felt  a  sense  of  relief.  He  had,  however,  some 
misgivings  with  regard  to  the  treatment  that  was  in 
store  for  him ;  but  these  were  soon  removed.  The 
old  woman,  whose  name  was  Cooh-coo-cheeh,  at 
once  made  a  careful  examination  of  his  body.  She 
found  him  covered  with  bruises;  his  feet  were  so 
swollen  as  to  retain  the  impress  of  the  finger  when 
laid  upon  them,  and  his  toes,  from  the  friction 
of  the  sand  collected  in  his  moccasins,  were  worn 
almost  to  the  bone.  Although  not  of  a  very  tender 
or  impressionable  nature,  her  sympathy  was  excited, 
and  she  set  about  to  effect  a  cure.  This  was  soon 
accomplished,  for  she  was  a  very  skilful  medicine- 
woman,  and,  applying  some  simple  vegetable  reme- 
dies, soon  restored  her  patient  to  perfect  health. 

This  old  woman  was  a  princess  of  the  Wolf  tribe 
of  the  Iroquois,  who  had  formerly  lived  on  the  Sorel 
River.  Her  husband  had  been  a  distinguished  chief 
of  the  Mohawks,  a  people  once  famous  for  their 
superior  intelligence  and  prowess,  and  who  had  oc; 
cupied  the  country  along  the  St.  Lawrence  to  Lake 
Ontario  and  bordering  Lakes  George  and  Champlain. 
For  many  years  very  powerful,  and,  indeed,  almost 
invincible,  this  nation  enjoyed  an  acknowledged  su- 
premacy over  the  Northern  tribes  until  about  1770, 
when,  meeting  with  a  disastrous  defeat  by  the  Ameri- 
can colonists,  they  were  scattered,  and  their  nation- 
ality was  destroyed.  The  husband  of  Cooh-coo- 
cheeh,  with  his  wife,  three  sons,  and  a  daughter,  then 


64  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN, 

removed  to  the  Shawnee  village,  a  mile  below  the 
mouth  of  the  Auglaize.  In  October,  1 790,  he  re- 
ceived a  mortal  wound,  at  the  victorious  battle  fought 
by  the  Indians  against  General  Harmar;  and  irom 
the  effect  of  this  wound  he  shortly  after  died.  He 
was  a  chief  who  was  greatly  beloved  and  widely 
celebrated,  and  a  warrior  of  the  most  signal  bravery. 
He  was  buried  in  a  sitting  posture,  facing  the  west, 
and,  according  to  the  custom  prevalent  among  the 
Indians,  his  rifle,  tomahawk,  knife,  blanket,  and  every 
thing  which  a  hunter  and  warrior  was  supposed  to 
require  in  the  spirit  world,  were  placed  by  his  side. 
His  long  scalp-pole  was,  on  great  and  important  oc- 
casions, planted  by  his  grave ;  and  on  this  pole  Spen- 
cer once  counted  nineteen  scalps  taken  from  his 
unfortunate  countrymen, — the  hair  being  of  all  col- 
ors and  length,  and  streaming  in  the  wind. 

Cooh-coo-cheeh  was  a  woman  who  was  held  in  great 
respect,  reverence,  and  awe  by  the  people  around 
her  as  one  skilled  in  medicine  and  deeply  versed  in 
mysterious  and  supernatural  lore.  She  was  both 
priestess  and  prophetess,  and  the  Indian  braves, 
before  taking  the  war-path,  never  failed  to  consult 
her  oracles,  in  which  they  placed  the  most  implicit 
reliance.  Like  the  Delphian  priestess  of  old,  she 
delivered  her  prophecies  in  terms  capable  both  of 
favorable  and  of  unfavorable  construction,  and  so, 
whatever  was  the  issue  of  a  campaign,  battle,  or 
adventure,  the  event  always  was  in  keeping  with 
her  prediction,  and  strengthened  the  opinion  enter- 
tained by  her  people  of  her  wonderful  powers. 


SPENCER'S  CAPTIVITY.  65 

The  family  of  this  old  squaw  consisted  of.  an  In- 
dian orphan  girl  of  about  thirteen,  named  So-to-ne- 
goo,  and  a  half-Indian  boy  of  ten,  called  Ked-zaw- 
saw,  the  son  of  the  renegade  Simon  Girty.  Both 
the  girl  and  the  boy  were  her  grand-children,  and 
were  very  quick  and  bright  in  temperament  and 
sprightly  in  action.  Their  mother  was  the  wife  of 
George  Ironside,  a  British  Indian  trader,  who  lived 
at  a  trading  station  on  the  opposite  bank  of  the 
river. 

The  house  in  which  young  Spencer  now  took  up 
his  residence  was  simple,  but  comfortably  furnished. 
The  surrounding  country  was  remarkable  for  scenic 
beauty  and  salubrity  of  climate,  and  was  very  rich  in 
natural  resources,  the  soil  being  remarkably  fertile, 
and  the  rivers  and  adjoining  woods  affording  the 
greatest  abundance  of  fish  and  game. 

Knowing  that  any  attempt  to  escape  must  be  un- 
availing, and  being  well  satisfied  with  the  treatment 
which  he  received,  Spencer  determined  to  adapt  him- 
self, as  far  as  possible,  to  the  circumstances  in  which 
he  was  placed,  and  await  with  patience  a  change  for 
the  better. 

Being  naturally  of  an  observant  disposition,  he 
found  much  to  interest  and  instruct  him  in  the 
modes  of  life,  manners,  and  customs  of  the  In- 
dians; and  not  the  least  profitable  and  entertain- 
ing portion  of  his  narrative  is  that  in  which  he 
gives  the  results  of  his  observations  upon  Indian 
domestic,  social,  and  political  life.  Particularly  in 
describing  the  Indian  love  of  display  in  dress,  the 


66  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

information  which  he  gives  is  highly  useful,  and,  in 
places,  amusing.  "All  of  the  young  and  middle- 
aged  among  the  women."  says  he,  "are  passion- 
ately fond  of  finery, — the  young  belles,  particularly, 
having  the  tops  of  their  moccasins  curiously  wrought 
with  beads,  ribands,  and  porcupine  quills;  the  bor- 
ders of  their  leggins,  and  the  bottoms  and  edges 
of  their  strouds,  bound  with  ribands,  edged  with 
beads  of  various  colors;  and  frequently  on  their 
moccasins  and  their  leggins  small  tufts  of  deer's- 
hair,  dyed  red,  and  confined  in  small  pieces  of 
tin,  rattling  as  they  walked,  and  forcibly  reminding 
one  of  the  tinkling  ornaments  worn  by  the  Jewish 
women. 

"Nor  is  the  fondness  for  show  confined  to  the 
women;  on  the  contrary,  it  is  even  stronger  in  the 
men,  who,  in  addition  to  the  ornaments  worn  by  the 
women,  wear  large  silver  medals  and  gorgets  on 
the  breast,  silver  rings  in  the  nose,  and  heavy  silver 
rings  in  the  ears, — the  rims  of  which,  being  separ- 
ated from  the  cartilage  by  cutting,  are  weighed  down 
two  or  three  inches  from  the  head. 

"A  trifling  circumstance  may  illustrate  their  ex- 
treme love  of  show.  When  captured,  my  rounda- 
bout and  pantaloons  were  of  plain  summer  wear, 
with  covered  mold  buttons;  but  my  vest  was  of 
blue  silk,  double-breasted,  with  two  rows  of  small 
plated  sugar-loaf  buttons,  which,  attracting  their 
attention,  the  Indians  had  several  times  examined, 
supposing  them  to  be  silver.  On  the  second  night 
after  leaving  the  Ohio,  the  companion  of  Wawpaw- 


SPENCER'S  CAPTIVITY.  67 

wawquaw,  taking  my  vest,  cut  off  both  rows  of  but- 
tons, including  a  strip  of  two  inches  of  silk  on  each 
side,  and,  carefully  folding  them  up,  put  them  in  his 
bullet-pouch.  Surprised  at  this  conduct,  and  unable 
to  form  any  idea  of  his  motive  in  spoiling  my  vest, 
I  thought  he  was  actuated  by  a  savage  malignity 
merely,  and  felt  not  a  little  chagrined  and  indignant 
when,  just  before  entering  the  first  Indian  village, 
I  saw  him  fasten  the  spoils  of  my  vest  around  his 
legs  as  garters,  contrasting  strangely  with  his  greasy 
leathern  leggins." 

Growing  in  favor  with  the  old  Indian  woman,  who 
now  regarded  him,  if  not  with  partiality,  at  least, 
with  kindness,  the  lad,  greatly  improved  in  health 
and  spirits,  was  taken  by  her,  about  a  week  after 
his  arrival,  to  the  Shawnee  village,  at  the  conflu- 
ence of  the  two  streams  below.  Here,  after  paying 
a  visit  to  his  master,  Wawpawwawquaw,  by  whom 
he  was  very  kindly  received,  he  was  taken  to  the 
tent  of  the  famous  Indian  chief  Blue  Jacket.  This 
celebrated  personage  Spencer  pronounces  in  his 
narrative  to  have  been  the  most  noble-looking  In- 
dian that  he  ever  saw.  With  a  stature  of  about  six 
feet ;  a  perfectly-proportioned  body ;  large,  bright, 
and  piercing  eyes ;  a  nose  of  aquiline  shape,  and 
an  open  and  intelligent  countenance,  he  presented 
altogether  an  appearance  which  might  have  done 
no  discredit  to  many  of  "the  superior  race."  He 
was  very  richly  dressed,  and  wore  on  his  shoulders 
a  pair  of  gold  epaulettes,  and  on  his  arms  broad 
silver  bracelets;  while  from  his  neck  depended  a 


68  .     THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

massive  silver  gorget,  with  a  medallion  portrait  of 
George  III. 

It  happened  that  on  the  day  when  the  boy  Spen- 
cer was  taken  into  the  presence  of  Blue  Jacket,  that 
chief  had  received  a  visit  from  some  of  the  sachems 
of  the  neighboring  villages.  Among  the  visitors 
were  a  chief  called  The  Snake,  a  plain,  grave,  and 
sage-appearing  man,  and  with  him  the  infamous  rene- 
gade Simon  Girty.  The  villainous  cast  of  counte- 
nance of  the  latter,  and  the  sinister,  brutal,  and 
forbidding  expression  which  never  was  absent  from 
his  face,  did  not  have  the  effect  of  removing  the  un- 
favorable opinion  which  the  lad  had  already  formed 
of  the  notorious  bandit  and  renegade,  the  cowardly 
murderer  of  his  own  people,  and  the  inventor  of 
many  of  the  cruel  and  diabolic  devices  in  use  among 
the  savages  for  torturing  unhappy  victims.  He  was 
dressed  in  the  Indian  garb,  but  wore  no  ornaments  or 
trappings.  A  silk  handkerchief,  which  supplied  the 
place  of  a  hat,  hid  a  ghastly  wound  on  his  forehead 
which  had  been  inflicted  by  the  Indian  chief  Brandt, 
with  his  tomahawk,  in  a  drunken  brawl,  but  which 
Girty  (who  now  addressed  himself  to  the  youth, 
speaking  with  the  greatest  bitterness  of  the  wrongs 
which  had  been  done  him,  and  boasting  with  the 
most  savage  exultation  of  the  vengeance  which  he 
had  wrought)  asserted  to  be  a  saber-cut  received  at 
St.  Clair's  defeat  from  a  "Yankee  officer,"  whom, 
he  said,  "he  had  afterwards  killed."  Girty  con- 
cluded his  conversation  with  Spencer  by  telling  him 
that  he  must  never  hope  to  see  his  home  again,  and 


SPENCER'S  CAPTIVITY.  69 

adding  that,  if  he  "should  turn  out  to  be  a  good 
hunter  and  a  brave  warrior,  he  might  one  day  be 
a  chief." 

After  a  short  stay  in  the  village,  the  old  woman 
returned  with  her  charge  to  the  cabin.  A  few  days 
later,  she  took  Spencer  across  the  river  to  the  resi- 
dence of  her  daughter,  the  wife  of  Mr.  Ironside, 
the  trader.  Here  the  boy  found  a  number  of  traders' 
cabins,  occupied  chiefly  by  French  and  English,  who 
carried  on  a  large  exchange  business  in  merchandise, 
and  also  bargained  with  the  Indians  for  skins  and 
furs,  for  which  they  gave  broaches,  ear-rings,  and 
other  trifling  ornaments,  reaping  immense  profits. 

During  his  stay  with  the  traders,  the  lad  spent  a 
large  part  of  his  time  in  conversation  with  Mr. 
George  Ironside,  who  treated  him  with  great  kind- 
ness and  friendship.  He  found  his  host  a  sociable 
and  highly  intelligent,  as  well  as  a  humane  and  be- 
nevolent man,  who  listened  to  the  story  of  his  cap- 
tivity with  marked  attention  and  interest,  and,  when 
he  had  finished,  gave  him  some  useful  advice  and 
information. 

The  following  day  was  also  spent  at  the  trading 
station.  On  this  day,  to  his  great  astonishment  and 
gratification,  he  met,  at  the  house  of  Mr.  Ironside,  a 
former  fellow-townsman,  William  Moore  by  name, 
Avho  had  just  returned  from  a  journey  to  the  rapids 
of  the  Maumee  River.  After  a  greeting  of  great 
heartiness  on  both  sides,  Moore  prevailed  upon  his 
young  friend  to  tell  his  story,  which  the  boy  accord- 
ingly did,  his  companion  listening  in  the  meantime 


7O  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

with  great  apparent  approbation  of  the  endurance 
and  heroism  shown  by  the  youth.  After  Spencer 
had  related  the  story  of  his  adventures,  Mr.  Moore 
was  persuaded  to  tell  his ;  and,  as  his  experience  is 
of  a  most  interesting  character,  scarcely  less  so,  in- 
deed, than  that  of  his  youthful  friend,  already  tran- 
scribed for  the  diversion  of  our  readers,  we  may  be 
pardoned  for  writing  it  out  in  brief  in  the  present 
narrative. 

William  Moore  was,  perhaps,  as  fine  a  physical 
specimen  of  the  sturdy  pioneer  as  could  be  found 
at  that  time  in  the  whole  West.  He  possessed  a 
stalwart  frame,  a  constitution  of  iron  firmness  and 
endurance,  an  enormous  muscular  development  and 
strength,  and  a  commanding  stature,  being  no  less 
than  six  feet  two  inches  in  height.  He  combined 
all  the  qualities  necessary  or  useful  to  the  early  set- 
tler of  the  Western  wilds,  being  as  bold  and  skillful 
in  enterprise  as  he  was  strong  and  active  in  body, 
and  having  few  rivals  as  a  successful  boatman  and 
hunter.  He  was  remembered  by  young  Spencer  as 
one  of  the  most  practised  marksmen  in  that  part  of 
the  country,  who,  at  fifty  steps,  had  often  sent  a 
rifle-ball  to  the  center  of  the  target,  as  well  as  a 
boatman  of  unexcelled  skill,  always  pushing  the  first 
pole  on  the  keel.  In  every  manly  sport,  such  as 
jumping,  wrestling,  boxing,  etc.,  he  had  no  equal  in 
the  village.  He  was  fearless  and  lawless  in  enter- 
prise, but  naturally  good-humored  and  sociable  as  a 
companion ;  and  of  no  one  could  it  be  said  more 


SPENCER  S    CAPTIVITY.  7  I 

accurately  than  of  him,  that  he  was  a  perfect  speci- 
men of  the  Western  pioneer  at  his  best. 

One  day,  while  hunting,  about  five  miles  north  of 
Columbia,  on  the  waters  of  Mill  Creek, — the  time 
was  a  few  months  previous  to  the  canoe  adventure 
related  in  this  history, — Mr.  Moore  was  suddenly 
surprised  by  five  Indians,  one  of  whom  was  Waw- 
pawwawquaw,  and  another  Caw-ta-waw-waw-quaw, — 
Black  Loon, — his  brother.  Moore  had  just  shot  a 
very  fine  doe,  which,  strapping  over  his  shoulders, 
he  was  about  to  carry  home.  The  Indians  had  dis- 
covered him  some  time  previous,  but,  seeing  his 
purpose,  they  prudently  postponed  their  attack  until 
he  should  be  encumbered  with  his  load,  and  so  be 
unable  to  m.ake  his  escape  by  flight.  They  sur- 
rounded him  very  cautiously,  and,  watching  their 
chances,  fired  just  at  the  opportune  moment.  One 
of  their  balls  grazed  his  right  shoulder-blade ;  another 
passed  through  the  carpus  or  compact  bones  of  his 
left  wrist,  thus  disabling  one  hand;  the  rest  were 
without  effect.  Although  carrying  a  load  which  a 
man  of  ordinary  strength  would  have  had  great 
difficulty  even  in  lifting,  Mr.  Moore  sprang  forward 
with  great  rapidity,  and,  incredible  as  it  may  seem, 
for  the  first  hundred  yards  outran  the  light-footed 
Indians.  He  must,  however,  soon  have  sunk  be- 
neath the  weight  of  his  burden,  had  he  not  con- 
trived to  rid  himself  of  it.  Without  slackening  his 
speed,  he  placed  his  rifle  on  his  left  shoulder,  sup- 
porting it  with  his  wounded  hand,  and  with  the  other 
drew  his  knife  from  his  belt,  and  cut  the  lashings 


72  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

which  bound  the  deer;  and,  his  load  falling  to  the 
ground,  he  was  soon  out  of  reach  of  all  but  two  of 
his  pursuers. 

The  two  foremost  savages,  seeing  that  the  utmost 
exertion  alone  could  enable  them  to  secure  him, 
now  pressed  forward  with  eagerness,  and,  as  Moore 
reached  the  top  of  a  ridge,  had  so  nearly  overtaken 
him,  that  one  of  them  was  only  a  rod  or  two  in  his 
rear.  Chancing  to  look  back  at  this  moment,  and 
seeing  his  danger,  Moore  gave  a  loud  whoop,  and, 
slapping  his  thigh  in  derision,  bounded  off  with  such 
speed  that,  had  it  not  been  for  an  unlucky  accident, 
the  Indians  must  needs  have  given  up  the  pursuit  as 
hopeless.  Reaching  the  foot  of  a  hill,  he  attempted 
to  leap  a  small  creek  which  crossed  his  path,  but, 
miscalculating  his  distance,  he  jumped  short  of  the 
opposite  bank  and  fell  into  the  water,  and,  by  the 
time  that  he  had  regained  his  feet  and  recovered  his 
rifle,  Wawpawwawquaw,  pistol  in  hand,  was  upon  him. 

Before  grappling  with  his  enemy,  the  Indian  twice 
aimed  his  pistol  at  him,  but  each  time  it  missed  fire. 
The  compliment  was  returned  by  Mr.  Moore,  who 
leveled  his  rifle,  but  with  no  better  success.  He 
now  attempted  to  knock  down  his  adversary  with  the 
butt  end  of  his  gun,  but,  failing  in  this,  he  drew  his 
knife,  and  was  about  to  attack  the  savage,  when  the 
second  Indian, — the  brother  of  Wawpawwawquaw, — 
arrived  and  interfered.  Further  resistance  was  now 
useless,  and  Moore  accordingly  surrendered  himself 
to  Wawpawwawquaw,  who,  giving  him  a  friendly  grasp, 
received  him  as  his  prisoner. 


SPENCER'S  CAPTIVITY.  73 

During  the  march  through  the  forest,  Moore  was 
well  treated,  although  narrowly  watched  and  securely 
guarded.  Any  attempt  to  escape  must  have  been 
vain  and  attended  with  disastrous  results,  for  his  five 
captors  were  all  stalwart  and  intrepid  warriors,  who 
well  knew  the  strength  and  valor  of  their  prisoner, 
and  who  consequently  kept  him  under  the  strictest 
surveillance. 

f 

Arriving,  in  a  few  days,  at  Blue  Jacket's  village, 
Moore,  as  a  man  and  warrior,  was  compelled  by  the 
Indians  to  pass  through  the  severe  ordeal  of  running 
the  gauntlet.  On  the  day  appointed  for  the  trial, 
large  numbers  of  men,  women,  and  children  flocked 
to  the  village  from  the  surrounding  country,  and  with 
clubs,  switches,  and  other  instruments  of  punishment, 
ranged  themselves,  to  the  number  of  about  two  hun- 
dred, in  two  rows,  each  ready  and  eager  to  act  a  part 
in  the  interesting  ceremony.  The  chiefs  and  princi- 
pal warriors  took  their  places  at  the  heads  of  the 
lines,  and,  when  every  thing  was  ready,  the  prisoner, 
stripped  to  the  waist  and  with  his  wrists  tied  to- 
gether, so  as  to  prevent  him  from  retaliating  on  his 
enemies,  was  led  out  and  started  on  his  run  to  the 
goal. 

The  Indians,  although  they  were  aware  of  Moore's 
great  strength  and  agility,  evidently  did  not  calculate 
on  the  possibility  of  his  evading  their  blows  and  es- 
caping serious  personal  injury.  But,  improbable  as 
it  may  seem,  so  rapidly  did  he  pass  through  the  lines, 
that  the  sticks  and  clubs  of  the  Indians,  instead  of 

striking  his  body,  fell  clattering  upon  each  other,  and 
5 


74  THE   BACK-WOODSMEN. 

he  reached  the  first  goal  almost  without  receiving  a 
blow.  His  return  was  made  with  equal  fleetness,  and 
he  would  have  entirely  escaped  bodily  harm,  had  not 
the  Indians,  disappointed  in  thus  losing  the  sport 
which  they  had  anticipated,  closed  their  ranks,  and 
commenced  to  belabor  him  in  the  most  merciless 
manner.  Finding  that  his  appeals  to  their  sense  of 
honor  and  justice  were  vain,  Moore  determined  to 
demonstrate  still  more  effectively  his  prowess  and 
bodily  superiority ;  and,  attacking  his  enemies  with 
his  feet,  head,  and  right  fist,  kicked  some  and  over- 
turned and  knocked  down  others,  until  those  that 
remained  were  glad  to  fall  back,  and  allow  him.  to 
continue  on  his  way  to  the  goal  in  the  usual  man- 
ner. This  he  did  amidst  the  shouts  of  the  warriors, 
and,  arriving  at  his  destination,  he  was  congratulated 
by  his  admiring  enemies,  and  rewarded  with  the 
highest  honors  for  the  signal  bravery  which  he  had 
displayed. 

Moore's  stay  in  the  Indian  village  was  attended 
with  little  incident  of  an  unusual  character.  He  was 
peaceable  and  friendly,  and  not  only  was  unmolested, 
but  even  enjoyed  freedoms  and  privileges  not  often 
granted  to  prisoners  of  war.  He  was  a  great  favor- 
ite of  Cooh-coo-cheeh,  to  whom  he  showed  himself 
very  attentive  and  obliging,  for,  being  a  skillful  work- 
man, he  made  himself  useful  about  her  house,  adding 
largely  to  its  conveniences,  and  building  a  separate 
cabin  for  the  accommodation  of  guests. 

» 

Mr.    Moore's   narrative   afforded   his   young  friend 


WILLIAM  MOORE  RUNNING  THE  GAUNTLET. 


A    WAMPANOAG    INDIAN    IN    F..LL    WAS    PAINT. 


SPENCER  S    CAPTIVITY.  75 

great  entertainment,  and  the  exchange  of  stories  of 
adventure  and  of  observations  on  the  habits  and 
character  of  the  Indian  tribes,  employed  a  few  days 
very  enjoyably  spent. 

About  the  middle  of  August,  the  interesting  and 
peculiar  ceremony  of  the  "feast  of  green  corn"  was 
celebrated  by  the  Indians  of  the  neighboring  villa- 
ges at  the  cabin  of  Cooh-coo-cheeh.  This  ceremony 
or  festival,  said  to  be  similar  to  that  of  "first  fruits" 
among  the  Jews,  had  been  observed  each  .year,  from 
time  immemorial,  by  the  more  wealthy  and  influential 
of  the  savages,  to  testify  their  gratitude  to  the  Great 
Spirit ;  and  on  these  important  occasions  all  of  the 
prominent  families  were  accustomed  to  assemble, 
spending  the  day  in  festivities,  feasting  principally 
on  green  corn,  variously  cooked,  and  amusing  them- 
selves with  games  and  athletic  sports. 

After  the  usual  salutations,  the  Indians  seated 
themselves  on  the  grass,  and  the  pipe,  according  to 
custom,  was  passed  several  times  around  the  circle. 
A  venerable  Indian  then  arose  and  addressed  the 
company  with  great  earnestness  and  solemnity.  His 
discourse,  as  Mr.  Ironside  afterward  informed  young 
Spencer,  was  of  the  character  of-  an  anniversary  ser- 
mon. He  spoke  of  the  favors  conferred  by  the  Great 
Spirit  on  his  red  children,  the  first  and  most  honora- 
ble of  the  human  race,  and  exhorted  his  hearers  to 
give  all  praise  and  devotion  to  their  benefactor.  He 
bitterly  reproached  the  young  warriors  for  their  pusil- 
lanimity in  allowing  the  "pale  faces"  to  encroach  on 
the  possessions  of  the  Indian  tribes,  and  declared 


76  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

that  it  was  their  duty  to  expel  their  enemies  frorr 
their  shores, — at  least  to  drive  them  south  of  the 
Ohio.  After  the  conclusion  of  this  address,  which 
was  listened  to  with  very  deep  attention,  the  Indians 
sprang  to  their  feet,  uttered  a  loud  and  prolonged 
yell,  and  then  proceeded  to  engage  in  the  sports  of 
the  day. 

The  first  of  these  was  a  foot-race  over  a  straight 
course  of  -one  hundred  yards.  The  principal  com- 
petitors were  Wawpawwawquaw,  his  two  brothers, 
and  another  Indian,  Captain  Walker.  Moore  was 
not  allowed  to  join,  and  with  good  reason,  for,  as 
he  afterward  declared,  he  would  willingly  have  given 
any  one  of  his  adversaries  twenty  steps  and  beaten 
him  in  a  hundred  yards.  The  race  was  easily  won 
by  Wawpawwawquaw. 

Next  followed  a  wrestling-match,  in  which  Captain 
Walker  was  the  victor.  It  was  now  proposed  that 
Walker,  who  had  shown  great  strength  and  address 
in  his  previous  contests,  should  wrestle  with 
Moore,  who  had  thus  far  been  an  inactive  spectator 
of  the  sports.  To  this  proposal  Walker  very  reluc- 
tantly gave  his  consent,  and  advanced  slowly  to  meet 
his  antagonist.  After  a  few.  feints  and  sleights,  such 
as  are  usually  employed  by  practised  wrestlers  to  try 
one  another's  strength,  the  struggle  became  very 
earnest,  and  for  some  time  the  result  appeared  to 
be  doubtful.  At  length,  however,  Moore,  taking  ad- 
vantage of  an  unguarded  movement  of  his  opponent, 
tripped  up  his  foot  and  threw  him  to  the  ground, 
although  partially  supporting  him  in  his  arms  to 


SPENCER'S  CAPTIVITY.  77 

break  the  force  of  the  fall.  Another  trial  followed, 
in  which  Walker,  stung  by  mortification,  put  forth  all 
of  his  strength ;  but  this  time  his  success  was  even 
less  than  before,  for  Moore,  by  a  powerful  effort, 
raised  him  by  the  hip,  pitched  him  head  over  heels, 
and  threw  him  with  great  violence.  The  Indians 
greeted  Moore's  victory  with  an  admiring  waugh! 
and,  as  it  was  now  about  noon,  the  sports  were  sus- 
pended for  a  time. 

In  the  feast  which  followed,  provisions  in  the  great- 
est variety  and  abundance  were  distributed,  and  the 
Indians,  as  was  customary  with  them  on  all  festal  oc- 
casions, literally  gorged  themselves  with  food.  After 
dinner,  the  warriors  indulged  for  a  time  in  the  luxury 
of  smoking,  and  each  consumed  a  small  measure  of 
rum,  when  the  festive  games  were  resumed,  and  the 
rest  of  the  day  was  passed  in  various  sports  and  en- 
tertainments, followed  in  the  evening  by  a  drunken 
carouse. 

During  his  captivity,  Spencer  had  occasion  to  ob- 
serve that  the  Indians  were  immoderately  fond  of 
strong  drink,  regarding  it  as  the  highest  enjoyment 
of  life  to  pass  hours  and  even  whole  days  in  drunken 
revels.  When  in  their  intoxicated  moods,  they  were 
extremely  dangerous,  quarrelsome,  and  violent,  at- 
tacking both  friends  and  foes  with  murderous  fury. 
"At  such  times,"  he  says,  "it  is  peculiarly  dangerous 
for  prisoners  (many  of  whom  fall  a  sacrifice  to  the 
brutal  barbarity  of  drunken  Indians)  to  encounter 
them."  On  one  occasion  he  saw  in  a  canoe  the  body 
of  a  white  youth  of  fourteen,  who  had  been  killed, 


78  THE   BACK-WOODSMEN. 

scalped,  and  mangled  in  the  most  horrible  manner  by 
his  drunken  master.  He  himself  had  several  very 
narrow  escapes  from  death  at  the  hands  of  intoxi- 
cated savages,  being  frequently  obliged,  on  hearing 
the  dreaded  sound  of  some  marauding  savage  ap- 
proaching the  cabin,  to  spring  from  his  bed  in  the 
middle  of  the  night  and  take  refuge  behind  the 
nearest  log  or  tree,  or  throw  himself  in  the  snow. 
Once  he  very  narrowly  escaped  being  murdered  in 
his  bed.  Black  Loon,  whom  he  had  in  some  way 
offended,  came  into  the  cabin  one  night  and  in- 
quired for  the  boy,  who,  hearing  him  approaching, 
had  seized  a  blanket  and  run  out  of  the  house. 
Being  told  that  his  intended  victim  was  absent,  the 
Indian  struck  his  knife  several  times  through  the 
skins  on  his  bunk  to  satisfy  himself  of  the  truth  of 
the  statement,  and  then,  being  disappointed,  and  de- 
termined upon  bloody  revenge  of  some  kind,  seized 
a  cat  which  lay  sleeping  on  the  floor  and  threw  it  in 
the  fire,  where  he  held  it  with  his  foot, — the  poor 
animal  squalling  most  piteously  all  the  time. 

About  the  middle  of  October,  1792,  the  Indians 
learned  that  the  whites  were  strengthening  their 
forces  on  the  Ohio,  ostensibly  in  preparation  for 
another  attack  on  the  villages.  A  large  band  of 
warriors  was  accordingly  mustered  under  the  com- 
mand of  the  chief  Little  Turtle,  and  about  fifty  of 
the  best  men  in  the  Shawnee  villages  were  sent  to 
join  it.  Before  setting  out  on  their  march,  they 
halted  at  the  cabin  of  Cooh-coo-cheeh,  to  consult 
her  on  their  prospects  of  success.  The  answer  was : 


SPENCER  S    CAPTIVITY.  79 

"Mechee!  mechee !  mechee!" — many  scalps,  many 
prisoners,  much  plunder;  and  the  Indians  departed 
in  full  expectation  of  complete  victory.  In  the  course 
of  a  month  they  returned,  their  confidence  in  the 
prophetic  powers  of  the  old  woman  in  no  degree 
lessened ;  for  they  had  defeated  a  large  body  of 
Kentuckians  near  Fort  St.  Clair,  taking  many  scalps, 
capturing  many  horses,  and  carrying  off  great  quan- 
tities of  baggage. 

As  time  wore  on,  the  young  prisoner,  hearing 
nothing  from  home,  grew  more  and  more  recon- 
ciled to  his  lot.  And,  determined  to  make  the  best 
of  all  around  him,  he  gradually  found  that  the  life 
of  an  Indian  captive,  though  one  of  constant  trial 
and  often  of  extreme  danger,  was  not  without  its 
amenities.  The  labor  required  of  him  was  light. 
He  had  little  to  do  but  carry  water,  gather  wood  for 
cooking,  and  attend  to  other  little  household  mat- 
ters. Having  plenty  of  leisure,  he  determined  to 
render  himself  worthy  of  still  greater  consideration 
from  his  captors  by  gaining,  if  possible,  a  reputation 
for  skill  and  daring  in  some  of  the  manly  exercises 
practised  by  the  Indians. 

He,  therefore,  asked  one  of  the  warriors  for  a  bow 
and  arrows,  which,  being  promptly  given  him,  he  pro- 
ceeded to  put  into  use.  In  a  short  time  he  became 
very  expert,  frequently  shooting  birds  and  small 
animals,  and  on  one  occasion  killing  a  very  large 
rabbit,  which  he  took  home  to  the  old  woman,  who 
received  it  with  great  pride  and  satisfaction.  He 
was  sometimes  permitted  to  visit  the  trader's  station 


8O  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

on  the  other  side  of  the  river;  and  here  he  was 
always  received  with  marked  kindness  by  Mr.  Iron- 
side and  the  other  residents.  He  also  occasionally 
met  visitors  from  other  parts  of  the  country  and 
prisoners  at  large;  and,  as  we  shall  see  hereafter, 
the  opportunities  which  he  thus  enjoyed  resulted  in 
the  end  to  his  no  small  personal  advantage. 

One  cold  afternoon  in  December,  he  was  sent  by 
the  old  woman  to  cut  and  bring  home  an  armful  of 
wood.  He  took  with  him  a  sharp  axe,  and  was  ac- 
companied by  the  faithful  dog  belonging  to  Cooh- 
coo-cheeh,  a  large  and  very  powerful  animal.  Hav- 
ing chopped  up  some  small  limbs,  and  tied  the  wood 
into  a  bundle,  he  was  about  to  return,  when  his  atten- 
tion was  attracted  by  the  dog,  which  was  growling 
and  barking  furiously  near  a  small  tree.  Picking  up 
his  axe,  he  went  to  the  spot,  and,  looking  into  the 
tree,  saw,  on  a  limb,  about  sixteen  feet  from  the 
ground,  a  large,  grayish,  cat-like  animal  crouched 
ready  to  spring.  Ignorant  of  the  nature  of  the 
animal,  and  not  thinking  of  danger,  he  threw  sev- 
eral sticks  at  it,  one  of  which,  striking  it  on  the 
head,  aroused  its  fury,  and  brought  it  to  the  ground. 
It  was  instantly  seized  by  the  dog,  which  battled 
with  it  for  a  few  moments  very  courageously.  But 
the  animal  fought  so  fiercely  and  savagely  that  it 
soon  gained  the  advantage,  and  the  dog,  if  left  to 
itself,,  would  ere  long  have  been  overpowered  and 
slain.  The  boy  now  became  conscious  of  the  dan- 
ger in.  which  he  stood,  and,  grasping  his  axe,  dealt 
the  beast  a  powerful  blow  on  the  head,  which  luckily 


SPENCER'S  CAPTIVITY.  81 

completely  stunned  it.  To  dispatch  the  animal  was 
the  work  of  but  a  moment,  and  Spencer  carried  it 
home  in  exultation.  Reaching  the  house,  he  threw 
down  his  burden  before  Cooh-coo-cheeh,  who,  rais- 
ing her  hands  in  astonishment,  exclaimed:  "Waugh 
haugh-h:  poo-shun ! "  and  then  loaded  him  with 
praises,  saying  that  he  would  one  day  become  a 
great  hunter,  and,  pointing  to  So-to-ne-goo,  told 
him  that  when  he  grew  to  be  a  man  he  should 
have  her  for  his  wife.  The  animal  proved  to  be  a 
large  male  wild-cat,  measuring  about  four  feet  from 
his  nose  to  the  end  of  his  tail,  and  being  nearly 
equal  in  size  and  strength  to  a  panther;  and,  had  he 
encountered  it  alone,  the  boy,  in  spite  of  his  courage, 
must  inevitably  have  been  killed. 

The  winter  passed  without  any  occurrences  worthy 
of  special  note.  It  was  extremely  cold,  in  December 
and  January  in  particular,  and  the  lad  suffered  a  great 
deal  from  exposure,  being  frequently  obliged  to  go 
out  in  the  snow  and  frost  in  his  bare  feet,  and  with- 
out clothing  sufficient  to  protect  him  from  the  biting 
cold.  He  continued  to  grow  in  favor  with  the  old 
woman,  who,  however,  though  kind  and  considerate 
in  the  main,  had  some  not  very  amiable  traits  of 
character.  She  was  very  quick-tempered,  and  at 
times  extremely  vicious,  —  and  when  in  her  angry 
moods  did  not  scruple  to  inflict  summary  pun- 
ishment on  the  object  of  her  wrath,  -often  hurl- 
ing sticks  of  wood,  pokers,  and  heavy  articles  of 
household  furniture  at  any  one  who  chanced  to  pro- 
voke her;  or,  if  these  were  not  convenient,  seizing 


82  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

a  knife,  axe,  or  other  weapon  and  threatening  venge- 
ance. 

One  evening  toward  the  last  of  February  a  stranger 
called  at  the  cabin,  and,  taking  Cooh-coo-cheeh  aside, 
communicated  to  her  a  piece  of  intelligence  which 
evidently  gave  her  great  concern,  for  she  sat  for  a 
time  brooding  in  silence.  After  a  while  she  became 
more  cheerful  and  talkative,  and,  inviting  the  boy  to 
sit  near  her  and  her  guest,  commenced  to  converse 
with  him  about  his  home  and  parents.  She  asked 
him  many  questions,  chiefly  relating  to  the  history 
and  rank  of  his  family.  To  these  he  replied  that  his 
ancestors  had  come  from  a  famous  island  on  the  east- 
ern side  of  the  great  salt  lake;  that  one  of  them  had 
emigrated  to  this  country  and  settled  near  New  York, 
and  that  he  himself,  with  his  beloved  father  and 
mother,  had  several  years  previous  come  to  the  great 
West,  hoping  to  live  in  peace,  and  gain,  by  honorable 
labor,  a  comfortable  support. 

When  the  boy  had  finished  his  narration,  the  old 
woman  sat  for  a  few  moments  silent  and  morose. 
Again  resuming  the  conversation,  she  spoke  in  tones 
of  deep  melancholy  of  the  misfortunes  and  wrongs 
of  her  own  race.  She  told  about  the  first  landing 
of  the  pale  faces  from  their  monstrous  white-winged 
canoes, — of  their  early  settlements,  prosperity,  and 
wonderful  growth  in  numbers  and  strength,  and 
finally  of  their  encroachments  upon  the  Indian  tribes, 
many  of  whom  they  exterminated.  She  said  that  the 
rightful  owners  of  the  soil  had  been  gradually  de- 
prived of  their  possessions,  and  were  now  being 


SPENCER'S  CAPTIVITY.  83 

crowded  to  the  extreme  North  to  perish  on  the  great 
frozen  lake;  or  to  the  distant  West,  where  the  rifles 
of  the  white  men  would  soon  push  their  scattered 
remnants  into  the  deep  sea.  All  of  these  misfort- 
unes she  attributed  to  the  anger  of  the  Great  Spirit, 
who  had  punished  her  race  for  their  pusillanimity  and 
crimes,  and  had  passed-  the  stern  though  righteous 
decree  that  the  red  men  should  ere  long  be  destroyed 
from  the  face  of  the  earth,  and  sleep  in  unknown  and 
unhallowed  graves. 

At  the  conclusion  of  this  melancholy  relation,  the 
old  woman  changed  her  tone,  and,  with  a  very  ani- 
mated countenance,  proceeded  to  describe  the  pleas- 
ures in  store  for  her  race  in  the  beautiful  and  bound- 
less hunting-grounds  set  apart  by  the  Great  Spirit 
as  their  future  abode.  These,  she  said,  lay  beyond' 
the  western  ocean,  and  were  ten  times  as  large  as 
the  whole  continent  of  America,  extending  to  the 
farthest  limits  of  the  earth.  Here  there  were  no 
extremes  of  heat  or  cold,  wet  or  drought ;  no  one 
suffered  disease,  and  age  and  infirmity  were  un- 
known; all  fruits  of  the  earth  grew  in  abundance 
without  needing  cultivation,  and  the  woods  were 
filled  with  every  description  of  game.  Pointing  to 
a  large  poplar  which  grew  near  the  house,  whose 
trunk  was  five  or  six  feet  in  diameter,  and  whose 
stem  rose  eighty  feet  without  a  limb,  she  said  that 
the  trees  in  the  country  of  which  she  spoke  were 
twenty  times  its  size,  and  that  their  branches  seemed 
to  penetrate  the  heavens,  bearing  company  with  the 
stars.  Every  thing  in  this  favored  region  was  en- 


84  THE  BACK-WOODSMEN. 

dowed  with  eternal  life  and  unfading  beauty,  and 
here  the  Indian  was  to  be  the  sole  possessor,  undis- 
turbed by  the  cruel  and  avaricious  white  man. 

"  No  fiends  torment ;  no  Christians  thirst  for  gold." 

The  Indian's  wishes  for  the  future,  she  said,  were  as 
simple  as  his  expectations  were  ardent  and  confident. 

"To  be  contents  his  natural  desire, 
He  asks  no  angel's  wing,  no  seraph's  fire, 
But  thinks,  admitted  to  that  equal  sky, 
His  faithful  dog  shall  bear  him  company." 

The  two  listeners  heard  her  glowing  and  eloquent 
.description  with  great  attention  and  intense  admira- 
tion. The  stranger,  who  was  a  Canadian  French- 
man, gave  expression  to  his  wonder  by  frequent 
exclamations,  but  once  or  twice  turned  to  the  boy, 
'smiling  incredulously,  and  remarking:  "Ma  foi!  dat 
is  grand  country!" 

On  the  next  morning,  much  to  his  surprise,  young 
Spencer  was  taken  apart  by  Cooh-coo-cheeh,  and  in- 
formed by  her  that  his  captivity  had  come  to  an  end, 
and  that  he  was  to  depart  immediately  on  his  home 
journey.  He  was  not  long  in  ascertaining  the  causes 
which  had  led  up  to  this  earnestly  wished-for  result. 
While  visiting  the  traders'  station  on  the  other  side 
of  the  river,  he  had  one  day  met  a  Mr.  Wells,  a 
prisoner-at-large  among  the  Indians,  who,  becoming 
interested  in  him,  had  inquired  very  particularly-  con- 
cerning his  family,  and  shortly  afterward  communi- 
cated the  intelligence  of  his  safety  to  the  commanding 
officer  at  Post  Vincennes.  By  him  it  was  conveyed 
to  Colonel  Wilkinson,  at  Fort  Washington,  who  lost 


SPENCER'S  CAPTIVITY.  85 

no  time  in  transmitting  it  to  Mr.  Spencer.  Negotia- 
tions for  the  ransom  of  the  prisoner  were  at  once 
entered  into,  and  these  resulted  in  the  dispatch  of  a 
messenger,  by  the  Governor  of  Upper  Canada,  with 
the  necessary  purchase  money,  to  release  him  and 
convey  him  to  his  home. 

The  preparations  for  the  return  journey  were 
speedily  made,  and,  full  of  joyful  anticipation,  the 
lad  announced  to  his  friends  that  he  was  ready  to 
set  out.  He  soon  reproached  himself,  however,  for 
his  alacrity;  for  the  old' woman,  gently  taking  both 
of  his  hands  in  hers,  her  voice  trembling  with  emo- 
tion, and  her  eyes  filled  with  tears,  told  him  of  the 
great  pain  which  she  felt  at  parting,  since  she  had 
come  to  regard  him  almost  as  her  own  child.  She 
spoke  of  the  happiness  of  his  friends,  and  particu- 
larly of  the  joy  of  his  mother  on  his  safe  return,  and 
concluded  by  requesting  him  to  come  and  see  her 
when  he  grew  to  be  a  man.  So-to-ne-goo  was  no  less 
affected,  sobbing  loudly  as  she  took  his  hand ;  and  the 
boy  left  his  Indian  friends  with  the  grateful  conviction 
that  even  in  the  wilderness  the  oppressed  can  gain  an 
asylum,  and  that  even  among  barbarians  there  can 
be  found  persons  capable  of  generous  and  worthy 
emotions. 

Leaving  the  cabin,  young  Spencer  crossed  the  river 
in  the  company  of  his  French  conductor  to  the  traders' 
station.  Here  he  was  kindly  received  by  his  friend, 
Mr.  Ironside,  who  congratulated  him  on  his  release, 
and  then  introduced  him  to  Colonel  Elliot,  a  British 
Indian  agent,  and  to  Mr.  Sharp,  a  Detroit  merchant. 


86  THE   BACK-WOODSMEN. 

We  have  said  that  the  purchase  of  the  prisoner 
from  the  Indians  was  effected  by  Spencer's  parents 
through  the  agency  of  the  Governor  of  Upper 
Canada.  This  step  was  rendered  necessary  by 
reason  of  the  fact  that  a  deadly  enmity  existed 
between  the  Indians  and  the  American  settlers  on 
the  Ohio;  whereas,  the  British  in  Canada  were  on 
very  amicable  terms  with  the  savage  tribes  through- 
out this  part  of  the  country ;  and  consequently  all  en- 
gotiations  were  carried  on  through  them.  The  ransom- 
money  had  therefore  been  sent  by  way  of  Canada; 
and,  on  its  receipt,  Colonel  Elliot  had  been  dis- 
patched from  Detroit  to  bring  the  boy  to  that  point. 

Elliot  received  his  young  charge  very  coolly,  and 
took  an  early  opportunity  to  inform  him  that,  although 
he  was  now  out  of  the  hands  of  the  Indians,  he  must 
by  no  means  consider  himself  at  liberty.  This  lan- 
guage gave  the  boy  much  concern,  which  was  greatly 
heightened  when  Elliot  told  him  plainly  that  he  had 
not  been  set  free,  but  had  merely  changed  masters, 
being  his  (Elliot's)  property ;  and  that  he  must  gov- 
ern his  conduct  accordingly. 

The  wife  of  Mr.  Ironside  now  invited  the  boy  to 
breakfast ;  but  Colonel  Elliot  objected,  and  directed 
him  to  go  over  to  the  cabin  of  James  Girty  (the 
brother  of  Simon  Girty),  where  a  meal  would  be 
provided.  This  he  did ;  and,  sitting  down  to  a  table 
very  bountifully  provided,  commenced  to  eat  with 
great  heartiness.  He  had  hardly  satisfied  the  first 
cravings  of  his  appetite,  when  Girty  came  in,  and, 
eying  him  sharply,  said : 


SPENCER'S  CAPTIVITY.  87 

"So,  my  young  Yankee,  you're  about  to  start  for 
home." 

"Yes,  sir;  I  hope  so,"  the  boy  replied. 

"That,"  returned  Girty,  "will  depend  a  great  deal 
on  your  master,  who,  I  think,  intends  to  give  you  em- 
ployment for  two  or  three  years  in  his  kitchen  as  a 
scullion." 

He  then  took  a  knife  from  his  pocket,  and,  whetting 
it  on  a  stone,  said : 

"  I  see  your  ears  are  whole  yet,  but  I  am  greatly 
mistaken  if  you  leave  this  place  without  the  Indian 
ear-mark,  in  order  that  we  may  know  you  when  we 
catch  you  again." 

Without  waiting  to  learn  whether  this  threat  was 
meant  in  jest  or  earnest,  Spencer  sprang  from  the 
table,  leaped  out  of  the  door,  and  took  refuge  in  the 
house  of  Mr.  Ironside.  Here  he  found  Elliot,  who 
heard  his  complaint  with  a  sardonic  laugh,  and  a  look 
of  ineffable  contempt,  ordering  him  to  get  ready  at 
once  for  the  journey. 

Embarking  on  the  Maumee,  Elliot  and  Sharp  pro- 
ceeded with  their  young  companion  in  the  direction  of 
Detroit.  The  first  part  of  the  voyage  was  made  with- 
out incident,  and  with  little  conversation.  On  the  first 
night,  the  party  slept  at  a  Wyandot  village ;  and  about 
the  middle  of  the  afternoon  of  the  next  day,  landing  a 
few  miles  from  the  mouth  of  the  Maumee,  Elliot  and 
Sharp,  having  first  contracted  with  some  Indians  for 
a  gallon  of  rum  to  take  the  boy  the  rest  of  the  way, 
bade  him  adieu,  and  left  him  once  more  to  the  tender 
mercies  of  the  savages. 


88  THE   BACK-WOODSMEN. 

The  Indians,  eight  or  ten  in  number,  immediately 
commenced  to  drink,  carouse,  and  fight.  Among 
them  was  a  youth  of  about  fourteen,  who,  seeing  the 
boy  standing  quietly  by  a  tent,  came  up  to  him,  and 
proposed  a  wrestling-match.  This  challenge  Spencer 
refused,  on  account  of  the  great  disparity  in  their 
years,  size,  and  strength ;  but,  being  urged,  he  at 
length  consented.  The  result  was  more  fortunate 
than  he  had  expected ;  for,  being  quite  strong  and 
active  for  one  of  his  years,  he  proved  more  than  a 
match  for  the  young  savage,  and  in  a  few  seconds 
laid  him  sprawling  on  the  ground.  A  second  trial 
had  the  same  issue ;  and  the  Indian  youth  was  obliged 
to  beg  piteously  for  quarter  before  his  antagonist 
would  permit  him  to  rise  from  the  ground.  Mortified 
and  enraged,  the  unskillful  wrestler  now  commenced 
to  blackguard  his  victor ;  and,  seizing  him  by  the  hair, 
and  passing  his  finger  around  his  head,  declared  that 
he  would  scalp  him.  This  treatment  naturally  ex- 
cited young  Spencer's  resentment,  and,  dealing  the 
'insolent  youth  a  severe  blow  in  the  stomach,  he  com- 
pelled him  to  desist.  Placing  himself  in  an  attitude 
of  defense,  he  then  gave  his  opponent  to  understand 
that  any  attack  would  be  repaid  with  interest ;  and, 
so  well  had  he  maintained  his  ground,  that  he  was 
left  unmolested.  Presently,  however,  having  turned 
around  and  walked  a  few  steps  with  the  intention  of 
sitting  down,  he  was  assailed  from  behind  by  the  cow- 
ardly Indian,  who  struck  him  a  dangerous  blow  in  the 
back  with  a  sharp  knife,  intending  to  inflict  a  mor- 
tal wound.  At  this  point  an  old  Indian  interfered ; 


SPENCER'S  CAPTIVITY.  89 

and,  stripping  off  the  boy's  shirt,  carefully  dressed 
his  wound,  which  bled  profusely,  and  proved  to  be  an 
ugly  one,  though  not  of  a  serious  nature,  about  an 
inch  wide,  and  three  inches  deep. 

Early  the  next  morning  the  boy  was  placed  in  a 
canoe,  in  charge  of  two  old  squaws,  and  started  once 
more  on  his  way  to  Detroit.  Here  he  arrived  on  the 
evening  of  the  3d  of  March,  and  immediately  after 
was  delivered  by  the  women  to  the  commandant  of 
the  post,  Colonel  Richard  England. 

During  his  stay  in  this  place, — where  he  was 
obliged  to  remain  until  Lake  Erie,  then  closed  by 
ice,  should  open, — young  Spencer  enjoyed  the  kind- 
est and  most  hospitable  treatment.  He  found  Colonel 
England  to  be  a  man  of  great  courtesy  and  very  high 
worth  of  character,  who  manifested  an  interest  in  his 
welfare,  and  a  solicitude  for  his  personal  comfort, 
which  never  passed  out  of  Spencer's  memory,  and 
of  which  he  speaks  in  his  narrative  in  the  most  grate- 
ful and  appreciative  terms.  Among  the  other  officers 
of  the  garrison  to  whom  he  was  greatly  indebted, 
Mr.  Spencer  mentions  Lieutenant  Andre,  a  brother 
of  the  distinguished  and  unfortunate  Major  Andre  of 
the  Revolution.  This  man,  Mr.  Spencer  says,  was 
one  of  the  handsomest  that  he  ever  saw;  and  his 
character  and  bearing  were  no  less  worthy  of  admi- 
ration than  his  person,  being  honorable,  courteous, 
and  open.  His  wife, — who,  .as  she  informed  the 
boy,  was  a  near  relative  of  his  mother, — was  equally 
kind  and  amiable,  and  from  her  the  poor  outcast  re- 
ceived a  thousand  friendly  offices,  all  of  which  he 
G 


9O  THE  BACK-WOODSMEN. 

ever  afterward  held  in  the  fondest  and  most  grateful 
remembrance.  . 

At  the  end  of  about  four  weeks  Spencer  was  in- 
formed that  the  navigation  of  the  lake  was  again 
open,  and  that  he  might  safely  resume  his  home- 
ward journey.  He  took  his  leave  from  his  kind 
friends  with  pain  and  regret, — emotions  which  were 
fully  reciprocated,  since  he  had  endeared  himself  by  his 
gentle  and  manly  ways,  and  won  not  only  the  re- 
spect, but,  indeed,  the  affection,  of  all  with  whom  he 
had  come  in  contact. 

The  voyage,  made  on  the  sloop  Felicity,  was  ex- 
tremely rough  and  even  hazardous.  The  vessel, 
while  in  the  middle  of  the  lake,  was  overtaken  by  a 
tempest,  and  was  at  one  time  in  imminent  danger  of 
wreck,  being  obliged  to  put  back  to  port,  and  wait 
until  the  storm  had  passed.  After  a  number  of  de- 
tentions, the  ship  arrived  safely,  on  Wednesday,  the 
1 3th  of  April,  at  Fort  Erie.  Here  the  captain  intro- 
duced his  young  charge,  with  a  letter  from  Colonel 
England,  to  the  officer  in  command,  by  whom  he  was 
sent,  several  hours  after,  to  Fort  Chippewa,  and  thence 
to  Queenstown  and  Fort  Niagara. 

Shortly  after  his  arrival  at  the  last-named  place, 
Spencer  was  taken  to  Newark,  at  that  time  the  seat  of 
the  provincial  government.  Here  he  was  courteously 
received  by  Governor  Simcoe,  who  gave  him  in  charge 
of  Thomas  Morris,  Esq.,  a  citizen  of  Canandaigua, 
New  York,  who  had  arrived  at  the  town  the  day 
before,  on  his  way  home,  and  had  kindly  offered  to 
take  the  boy  with  him.  Horses  were  provided  for 


SPENCERS    CAPTIVITY.  9! 

the  first  stage  of  the  journey  by  Governor  Simcoe. 
On  reaching  Niagara,  Mr.  Morris  purchased  two  good 
animals  and  a  stock  of  provisions ;  and,  taking  the 
road  through  the  wilderness,  .set  out  with  his  com- 
panion for  Canandaigua,  about  one  hundred  miles 
distant,  where  he  arrived  after  two  days'  hard  riding. 
At  this  place  the  boy  remained  until  about  the  middle 
of  June.  During  his  stay,  he  was  sent  to  school,  and 
all  his  expenses  were  paid  by  Mr.  Morris,  who  proved 
himself  to  be  one  of  the  most  disinterested  and  gen- 
erous of  benefactors, — refusing  afterward  to  receive 
the  least  remuneration  for  the  heavy  charge  to  which 
he  had  been  put. 

To  trace  each  step  taken  by  the  lad  on  the  rest  of 
his  journey  home  would  be  both  tiresome  and  profit- 
less to  the  reader.  It  will  be  sufficient  to  say  that, 
after  some  delays,  he  arrived  safely  at  New  York, 
and  was  taken  thence  to  his  relatives  in  Elizabeth- 
town,  New  Jersey,  where  he  arrived  on  the  third  day 
of  July,  1793,  just  one  year  after  his  departure  from 
his  home  in  Columbia. 

The  remainder  of  the  story  can  be  best  told  in  the 
language  of  Spencer  himself.  We  have  chosen  this 
means  of  bringing  it  to  a  termination,  not  only  because 
it  has  been  our  aim  to  preserve,  as  far  as  possible,  Mr. 
Spencer's  own  simple  and  beautiful  forms  of  expres- 
sion, but  also  because  the  extract  which  we  now  take 
from  his  book  serves  to  illustrate  the  great  and  shin- 
ing virtues  of  his  character,  and  for  its  pathos  and 
fervid  piety,  teaches  a  lesson  of  the  highest  interest 
and  value  to  our  young  readers. 


Q2  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

"At  Elizabethtown,"  says  he,  "  I  remained  with  my 
sister  and  brother-in-law,  Mr.  Halstead,  for  a  little 
more  than  two  years,  a  regular  portion  of  all  of 
which  time  was  occupied  by  me  at  school ;  and  on 
the  i4th  of  September,  1795,  being  then  fourteen 
years  old,  I  set  out  on  horseback,  in  company  with 
a  Mr.  Crane  and  the  late  General  Schenck,  then  on 
his  first  visit  to  the  West,  on  my  return  home.  We 
performed  the  journey  to  Pittsburgh  in  ten  days; 
and  there,  putting  our  horses  on  a  flat-boat,  de- 
scended the  Ohio,  and  arrived  at  Columbia  about 
the  middle  of  October.  The  joy  of  my  parents  on 
seeing  me  is  more  easily  imagined  than  described ; 
with  tears  and  embraces  they  welcomed  my  return. 
The  day  was  spent  in  affectionate  inquiries  about 
the  past;  and  devoutly  and  gratefully  that  evening, 
around  our  family  altar,  did  we  join  in  thanksgiving 
and  praise,  with  my  pious  father,  to  the  Father  of 
mercies,  for  all  his  past  unmerited  goodness, — par- 
ticularly for  my  preservation  and  safe  restoration  to 
my  home. 

"  Nearly  forty  years  have  since  passed  away.*  Our 
rivers  teem  with  commerce ;  their  banks  are  covered 
with  farms,  with  houses,  villages,  towns,  and  cities ; 
the  wilderness  has  been  converted  into  fruitful  fields ; 
temples  to  God  are  erected  where  once  stood  the 
Indian  wigwam,  and  the  praises  of  the  Most  High 
resound  where  formerly  the  screams  of  the  panther 
or  the  yell  of  the  savage  only  were  heard.  '  O ! 


*The  reader  should   bear  in  mind  that  Spencer  wrote  his  narrative  about  1830,  more 
than  fifiy  years  ago. 


SPENCER'S  CAPTIVITY.  93 

what  hath  God  wrought? '  But  where  are  the  friends 
and  companions  of  our  youth?  Our  parents,  where 
are  they?  Mine  have  long  since  'slept  with  their 
fathers.'  Wawpawwawquaw,  who  only  a  short  time 
since,  had  for  several  years  paid  me  an  annual  visit, 
has  gone  to  the  land  of  his  fathers;  and  almost  all 
of  those  of  whom  in  my  narrative  I  have  spoken  are 
no  longer  dwellers  upon  the  earth.  We,  also,  will 
soon  end  our  earthly  pilgrimage,  and  enter  that 
'  bourne  whence  no  traveler  returns/  May  we,  through 
divine  grace,  finish  well  our  journey,  that  we  may 
dwell  where  '  ever-during  spring  abides,  and  never- 
withering  flowers ' ;  in  that  healthful  clime  where 
'  sickness,  sorrow,  pain,  and  death  are  felt  and  feared 
no  more,' — where  there  is  '  fullness  of  joy,'  and  where 
there  are  'pleasures  for  evermore." 


SPY-LIFE.-ROBERT  McCLELLAN. 


life  of  a  scout  is,  under  any  circumstances, 
1  one  of  peculiar  responsibility,  and  calls  into  ex- 
ercise not  only  the  greatest  daring,  heroism,  and 
physical  endurance,  but  also  the  highest  strategetic 
skill  and  tact.  In  civilized  warfare,  the  spy  is  re- 
garded as  one  of  the  most  valuable  agents  of  mili- 
tary success,  and  only  men  of  undoubted  bravery 
and  known  discretion  are  detailed  to  perform  scout- 
duty.  A  general  may  possess  the  most  surpassing 
military  genius,  and  the  army  which  he  commands 
may  be  unequaled  in  point  of  numbers,  discipline, 
and  equipment;  but  unless  heroic  and  sagacious 
men  are  sent  out  to  keep  a  constant  watch  on  the 
enemy,  and  to  report  concerning  his  strength,  move- 
ments, and  the  disposition  of  his  forces,  the  leader 
will  often  make  mistakes  in  judgment,  and  the  army 
will  be  likely  to  gain  very  little  in  prestige. 

But,  though  the  duties  of  the  spy  in  civilized  war- 
fare are  of  a  most  difficult  and  responsible  character, 
they  can  bear  no  comparison,  either  for  difficulty  or 
responsibility,  to  his  duties  in  a  war  carried  on  by  a 
civilized  nation  with  a  semi-civilized  or  barbarous  one. 
In  a  war  of  this  kind,  success  is  dependent  almost 
entirely  upon  the  character  of  the  scouting  service, 
since  the  chief  object  to  be  sought  is  to  guard  against 

(94) 


SPY-LIFE. ROBERT    McCLELLAN.  95 

surprise,  and  since,  if  this  object  can  be  accomplished, 
victory  is  a  necessary  consequence;  for  a  body  of 
civilized  troops  can  nearly  always  successfully  resist 
an  equal  or  larger  body  of  barbarians  in  a  fair  con- 
test. In  savage  warfare,  therefore,  the  safety  or 
danger  of  a  whole  army  depends  greatly  upon  the 
service  of  the  scout,  who,  if  vigilant  and  active,  can 
often  avert  an  impending  disaster;  but  who,  if  un- 
suited  to  the  duties  devolving  upon  him,  is  as  fre- 
quently the  indirect  agent  of  irreparable  calamity. 

Some  of  the  most  interesting  pages  of  American 
history  are  those  which  are  devoted  to  the  adventures 
of  the  brave  scouts  whose  daring  and  prowess  have 
been  potent  instruments  in  extending  our  frontiers. 
The  deeds  of  these  valiant  men  have  been  often  told, 
but  they  can  not  be  too  frequently  repeated.  It  is 
our  purpose  to  give,  in  the  present  narrative,  a  brief 
account,  of  one  of  the  earliest  of  these  adventurers, 
whose  history,  though  now  little  read,  has  every  feat- 
ure of  romantic  interest,  and  whose  performances 
should  not  be  permitted  to  pass  out  of  the  remem- 
brance of  his  countrymen. 

Robert  McClellan  was  the  son  of  a  pioneer  farmer, 
who  lived,  at  the  time  of  the  Revolution,  in  western 
Pennsylvania.  Growing  up  to  manhood  in  that  wild 
and  unsettled  region,  young  McClellan  was  from  his 
first  years  inured  to  all  the  hardships  and  dangers 
of  back-woods  life.  Arriving  at  a  suitable  age,  he 
chose  the  occupation  of  a  pack-horseman,  which  he 
followed  until  a  few  years  after  the  close  of  the  war; 
when,  led  by  a  restless  disposition,  and  an  adventur- 


96  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

ous  spirit,  he  emigrated  to  southern  Ohio,  at  that 
time  a  part  of  the  far  West. 

Immediately  upon  his  arrival,  he  applied  to  one 
of  the  military  authorities  commanding  an  important 
post  on  the  Hocking  River  for  employment  in  the 
capacity  of  a  spy  or  ranger.  His  application  was 
granted;  and,  early  in  the  year  1790,  he  entered  on 
the  career  of  his  choice, — a  career  which  was  des- 
tined to  give  him  great  credit  and  distinction. 

The  life  which  he  selected  was  one  to  which  he 
was  in  every  respect  most  admirably  adapted.  Pos- 
sessing a  magnificent  physique,  powerful  in  build, 
straight  as  an  arrow  in  form,  rapid  and  agile  in 
movement,  and  giant  in  strength,  few  men  could 
stand  against  him  in  any  bodily  exercise  or  warlike 
contest.  The  most  incredible  stories  are  told  of  the 
feats  of  skill  and  strength  which  were  accomplished 
by  him  almost  without  an  effort;  and  yet,  however 
fictitious  these  stories  may  seem,  there  can  be  no 
doubt  that  they  are  entirely  truthful,  since  his  re- 
markable athletic  exploits  were  witnessed  and  at- 
tested by  men  whose  veracity  can  not  be  questioned. 
One  of  his  favorite  feats  was  to  leap  over  a  tall 
horse ;  and,  on  one  occasion,  while  passing  along  a 
narrow  sidewalk  in  Lexington,  Kentucky,  with  the 
late  well-known  Matthew  Heuston,  finding  his  path 
obstructed  by  a  yoke  of  oxen,  he,  instead  of  walking 
around  them,  as  his  companion  did,  leaped  over  both 
at  a  bound.  While  with  the  army  in  Greenville,  he. 
was  challenged  to  a  trial  of  feats  of  strength  by  a 
number  of  soldiers  and  teamsters ;  but,  not  deigning 


SPY-LIFE. ROBERT   McCLELLAN.  97 

a  reply,  either  by'  way  of  acceptance  or  refusal,  he 
walked  off  a  few  paces,  took  a  short  run,  and  jumped 
over  a  wagon  with  a  covered  top,  about  eight  and  one- 
half  feet  high.  He  was  very  fleet  of  foot,  and  in  a 
long  race  never  met  his  equal.  All  of  these  physical 
qualities  now  became  eminently  useful  to  him,  and 
enabled  him  to  perform  actions  which  gave  him  an 
almost  unrivaled  renown  among  the  pioneers  of  the 
West. 

Soon  after  his  employment  as  an  army  spy,  McClel- 
lan  was  sent,  with  a  companion  named  White,  on  an 
important  scouting  expedition  to  the  upper  part  of 
the  Hocking  Valley.  Here,  it  had  been  learned,  the 
Indians  were  gathering  in  great  numbers  with  the  in- 
tention of  organizing  to  proceed  against  the  frontier 
posts.  The  mission  of  the  two  spies  was  to  ascer- 
tain, if  possible,  the  strength  of  the  Indians,  and  the 
intentions  of  their  leaders. 

Providing  themselves  with  a  store  of  jerked  veni- 
son and  corn  bread,  and  arming  themselves  with 
knives,  tomahawks,  and  pistols,  they  took  their  rifles 
in  their  hands,  and  set  out  on  their  hazardous  en- 
terprise. It  was  the  last  part  of  October,  and  the 
weather  was  very  fine.  Their  course  lay  directly 
through  the  wilderness;  and,  with  high  spirits  and 
undaunted  resolution,  they  went  forward,  determined 
to  succeed  in  this  their  first  important  undertaking, 
and  gain  the  applause  which  brave  men  covet  as  the 
reward  of  heroism. 

A  few  days'  march  brought  them  within  sight  of 
the  Indian  encampment.  This  lay  in  a  broad  and 


98  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

beautiful  valley,  near  the  place  where  the  town  of 
Lancaster  now  stands.  After  making  a  reconnois- 
sance  of  the  enemy,  the  spies  proceeded  to  examine 
the  ground,  and  select  a  place  of  concealment. 

At  one  end  of  the  valley  rose  a  remarkable  promi- 
nence, terminating  in  a  perpendicular  cliff  of  rocks, 
several  hundred  feet  in  height.  This  cliff  overlooked 
the  plain  below,  and  afforded  not  only  a  full  view  of 
the  Indians,  but  also  a  position  of  great  safety  and 
strength,  from  which  a  few  men  could  successfully 
resist  a  much  larger  body.  Here  McClellan  and  his 
companion  concealed  themselves,  and  set  about  to 
accomplish  ;ne  objects  of  their  mission. 

The  IP  i.ans  in  the  valley  were  very  numerous,  and 
the  rn^p  extensive  preparations  were  evidently  being 
mad  2  ior  proceeding  on  some  warlike  expedition. 
Ev^ry  day  witnessed  some  new  accession  to  the 
strength  of  the  savages ;  and,  as  each  war-party 
arrived,  terrible  shouts  were  sent  up,  echoing  and 
re-echoing  in  the  distance,  and  enforcing  upon  the 
two  listeners  the  conviction  that  their  enterprise  was 
indeed  one  of  immense  hazards. 

Small  detachments  were  frequently  sent  out  by  the 
main  body  to  hunt  for  game ;  and  some  of  these  oc- 
casionally approached  the  place  where  the  spies  lay 
concealed.  At  such  times,  McClellan  and  his  friend 
crept  into  fissures  of  the  rock,  and  thus  escaped  dis- 
covery. On  one  or  two  occasions,  however,  they 
came  very  near  being  surprised,  the  savages  coming 
within  a  few  feet  before  they  were  aware  of  their 
presence :  but,  by  alertness  and  agility,  the  spies  sue- 


SPY-LIFE. ROBERT    McCLELLAN.  99 

ceeded  in  saving  themselves,  and   in   keeping  their 
enemies  in  ignorance. 

On  account  of  their  near  proximity  to  so  large  a 
band  of  hostile  warriors,  McClellan  and  White  did 
not  dare  either  to  shoot  at  game  or  kindle  a  fire. 
Their  supply  of  food  was,  however,  ample ;  and,  as 
the  nights  were  not  excessively  cold,  they  did  not  suf- 
fer much  from  exposure,  since  they  were  both  hardy 
frontiersmen,  and  had  been  accustomed  through  life 
to  privations  of  all  kinds. 

But,  though  their  stock  of  provisions  was  large 
enough  to  satisfy  every  want,  and  though  they  did 
not  suffer  serious  discomfort  from  the  weather,  they 
soon  began  to  feel  the  pangs  of  extreme  thirst. 
They  had  for  a  time  drawn  a  sufficient  supply  of 
water  from  the  hollows  in  the  rocks,  which  were 
filled  with  rain-water  that  had  recently  fallen ;  but 
this  supply  soon  became  exhausted,  and  a  new  one 
had  to  be  sought. 

The  emergency  was  one  of  great  danger;  but 
McClellan,  who  always  insisted  on  being  the  fore- 
most in  hazardous  undertakings,  proved  equal  to  it. 
Slinging  two  canteens  over  his  shoulders,  he  took 
his  rifle  in  his  hand,  and  cautiously  descended  the 
cliff.  Skirting  the  declivity  of  the  hill,  he  kept  under 
cover  of  a  thicket  of  hazel  bushes  which  grew  be- 
tween him  and  the  Indian  camp,  and  soon  reached 
a  beautiful  grove  (which  he  had  noticed  while  recon- 
noitering  the  savages) ;  and  here  he  found  a  spring 
of  clear,  cold  water.  Filling  his  canteens,  he  returned 
with  equal  caution,  and-  rejoined  his  companion. 


1OO  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

The  next  day,  as  a  new  supply  was  needed,  White 
volunteered  to  perform  the  duty.  He,  also,  was  suc- 
cessful ;  and  it  was  now  arranged  that  the  canteens 
should  be  filled  daily,  the  task  devolving  on  the  two 
men  alternately.  The  third  day  the  water  was  ob- 
tained, as  before,  without  discovery ;  but,  on  the 
fourth  day,  the  good  fortune  which  had  previously 
attended  the  adventurers  was  suddenly  changed,  and 
they  were  thrown  into  circumstances  which  afforded 
them  as  many  opportunities  as  they  could  have  wished 
for  displaying  their  courage  and  audacity. 

White  had  reached  the  spring  without  being  dis- 
covered, and  had  filled  his  canteens  to  the  brim  with 
the  pure  and  grateful  liquid.  Fancying  himself  se- 
cure, he  had  seated  himself  in  the  shade,  and  was 
watching  the  water  as  it  bubbled  from  the  earth  and 
flowed  away  in  a  clear  and  beautiful  stream.  Sud- 
denly his  practised  ear  caught  the  sound  of  light 
footsteps;  and,  turning  round,  he  saw  two  Indian 
women  approaching.  One  of  them,  on  discovering 
him,  gave  a  loud  whoop,  and  both  turned  and  were 
about  to  fly,  when  White,  instantly  comprehending 
the  situation,  and  concluding  that  his  only  recourse 
was  to  inflict  a  speedy  and  noiseless  death,  sprang 
forward,  and,  grasping  them  by  the  throat,  thrust 
them  quickly  into  the  water.  He  soon  succeeded  in 
drowning  one ;  but  the  other,  who  was  young  and 
very  active,  resisted  him  powerfully.  The  struggle 
was,  however,  brief;  and  he  was  about  to  submerge 
her,  when,  to  his  great  surprise,  she  addressed  him 
in  English,  begging  for  mercy.  White  relaxed  his 


SPY-LIFE. ROBERT    McCLELLAN.  IOI 

grasp  and  demanded  an  explanation,  when  the  woman 
informed  him  that  she  was  not  an  Indian,  but  a  white 
captive,  who  had  been  taken  prisoner  about  ten  years 
previous.  The  Indians  had  killed  all  the  members 
of  her  family  except  herself  and  a  brother,  whom 
they  had  led  into  captivity.  Her  brother  had  suc- 
ceeded in  making  his  escape  soon  after  his  capture ; 
but  she  had  been  carried  away,  and  was  now  so 
thoroughly  naturalized  as  to  be  regarded  by  her 
masters  as  one  of  their  own  number. 

While  the  girl  briefly  told  her  story,  White  assured 
himself  of  the  death  of  the  old  squaw;  and  then, 
directing  his  companion  to  follow  him,  took  his  gun 
and  quickly  set  out  to  return  to  the  place  where 
McClellan  lay  concealed.  Half  of  the  distance  was 
passed,  and  White  congratulated  himself  that  he 
should  have  ample  time  to  reach  the  rock,  apprise 
his  friend  of  the  danger  in  which  they  stood,  and 
with  him  make  good  his  retreat  before  the  Indians 
should  discover  the  dead  body  of  the  old  squaw  and 
raise  the  alarm.  But,  while  pressing  forward  through 
the  hazel  thicket,  he  heard,  to  his  great  dismay,  a 
shrill  cry  a  short  distance  down  the  stream,  followed 
by  a  number  of  whoops;  and,  looking  through  the 
bushes,  he  saw  that  the  Indians  in  the  camp  were  in 
the  greatest  commotion,  and  that  several  armed 
parties  were  about  to  set  out,  evidently  for  the  pur- 
pose of  scouring  the  forest  for  their  enemy.  White 
now  ordered  the  woman  to  follow  as  rapidly  as  pos- 
sible, and  commenced  to  run  at  the  top  of  his  speed. 
They  fortunately  succeeded  in  gaining  the  cliff  before 


IO2  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

any  of  the  Indians  had  discovered  them;  and,  while 
the  girl  concealed  herself,  and  took  a  survey  of  the 
ground,  the  men  carefully  examined  their  rifles,  and 
laid  their  plans  for  defense. 

The  position  which  they  occupied  had  been  chosen 
by  them  with  especial  reference  to  securing  them- 
selves in  case  of  an  attack  in  force.  The  only  means 
of  reaching  it  in  front  was  by  a  narrow  pass,  through 
which  the  Indians  were  obliged  to  proceed  in  single 
file.  In  the  rear  it  could  be  commanded  from  a  steep 
rock,  which  afforded  a  shelter  to  the  attacking  party, 
and  from  which  they  could  fire  without  exposing  them- 
selves, and  this  the  spies  knew  to  be  the  chief  point 
of  danger.  Their  only  hope  of  successful  resistance 
was  that  the  Indians,  in  their  eagerness  to  secure  their 
prey,  would  not  perceive  the  more  important  position, 
but  would  advance  from  the  front,  thus  rushing  into 
the  trap  that  had  been  set  for  them. 

Soon  the  dark  forms  of  the  warriors  were  seen 
gliding  through  the  trees  and  rocks,  until  every  avail- 
able avenue  of  escape  was  cut  off,  and  the  position 
of  the  spies  was  completely  surrounded.  The  per- 
pendicular rock  in  the  rear  was  not,  however,  occu- 
pied as  yet,  and  hope  was  not  entirely  abandoned. 
The  Indians  advanced  with  great  caution,  being  ig- 
norant of  the  strength  of  their  opponents,  and  not 
knowing  their  exact  position ;  but  at  length,  guessing 
the  place  of  retreat,  they  formed,  and  proceeded  to 
dislodge  their  foes. 

The  first  Indian  had  no  sooner  exposed  himself 
than  he  fell  dead  by  a  bullet  from  McClellan's  rifle. 


SPY-LIFE. ROBERT    McCLELLAN.  1 03 

The  second  and  third  savages  each  met  with  a  like 
fate  ;  and,  as  the  rest  of  the  band  advanced,  the  guns 
of  the  white  men  continued  to  deal  destruction  and 
death.  Finding  that  they  could  not  hope  to  retaliate 
successfully,  the  Indians  at  last  gave  up  the  unequal 
contest,  and  withdrew  for  a  time  to  arrange  new  plans 
of  offense. 

Their  consultation  was  brief,  for  immediately  after- 
ward McClellan  saw  a  number  of  warriors  skulking 
behind  rocks  and  trees  toward  the  steep  rock  which 
commanded  the  position  from  the  rear.  Hope  sank 
within  the  brave  spies  as  they  now  perceived  that  the 
key  to  their  situation  had  at  last  been  discovered,  and 
that  capture  or  death  was  inevitable.  But,  though  all 
the  odds  seemed  to  be  against  them,  they  determined 
to  resist  even  more -stubbornly  than  before,  believing 
the  death  of  the  soldier  on  the  field  to  be  far  prefera- 
ble to  the  slow  torture  of  the  captive  at  the  stake. 

Their  resolution  was  made  in  silence ;  nor  were  they 
permitted  to  debate  long.  Keeping  his  eyes  fixed 
steadfastly  on  the  point  of  danger,  McClellan  saw  a 
tall  and  powerful  Indian  preparing  to  spring  from  a 
bush  so  near  to  the  rock  that  he  could  not  fail  to 
reach  it  in  two  or  three  bounds,  when,  clambering  to 
its  top,  he  would  be  able  to  have  an  unobstructed 
view  of  the  place  where  his  defenseless  enemies  lay 
concealed,  and  fire  upon  them.  The  distance  inter- 
vening was  eighty  to  one  hundred  yards,  and  only  a 
few  inches  of  the  savage's  body  were  exposed;  but 
McClellan  determined  to  risk  a  shot  and  fell  him,  if 
possible.  He  therefore  carefully  adjusted  the  flint  of 


IO4  THE   BACK-WOODSMEN. 

his  rifle,  raised  his  gun,  and  took  a  sure  aim.  He 
pulled  the  trigger,  and  the  hammer  fell;  but,  in  spite 
of  his  precautions,  his  gun  deceived  him.  The  flint, 
instead  of  firing  the  powder,  had  been  broken  in 
many  pieces,  and  McClellan  knew  that  before  he 
could  adjust  a  second  the  Indian  would  have  reached 
a  place  where  no  aim  of  his  could  avail.  He  went  to 
work,  however,  with  the  greatest  deliberation,  to  pre- 
pare for  one  more  trial. 

While  he  was  thus  engaged,  McClellan  heard  a 
sharp  report;  and,  looking  up,  could  hardly  believe 
his  eyes  when  he  saw  the  Indian,  checked  while  in 
the  midst  of  his  leap  by  a  bullet  sent  from  some 
friendly,  though  unknown,  rifle,  turn  a  somersault  in 
the  air,  and  drop  to  the  ground.  McClellan's  first 
thought  was  that  the  death-shot  had  been  sent  by  his 
companion,  White,  but,  turning  to  look  at  his  friend, 
he  saw  him  coolly  at  his  post,  watching  the  pass  in 
front;  and,  on  second  thought,  McClellan  knew  that 
the  gun  which  was  fired  could  not  have  been  his,  since 
the  report  came  from  some  distance.  The  unfavora- 
ble issue  of  the  Indian's  attempt  was  followed  by  a 
terrible  shout  from  his  companions  in  the  valley  below, 
who  not  only  were  disappointed  at  his  poor  success, 
but  who  also  deplored  his  loss,  as  he  evidently  was 
one  of  their  favorite  warriors. 

Before  McClellan  had  time  to  conjecture  on  the 
nature  of  the  mysterious  agency  which  had  inter- 
posed in  their  behalf,  another  Indian  cautiously  and 
swiftly  advanced  to  the  covert,  and  prepared  to  make 
the  leap.  He  paused  a  second,  and  then  jumped; 


THE  WHITE  SQUAW'S  SHOT, 


ATTACK    UPON    FORT    KING    BY    THE    INDIAN    FORCES   OF   OSCEOIA. 


SPY-LIFE. ROBERT    McCLELLAN. 

but  once  more  the  friendly  rifle  was  heard  to  sound, 
and  the  Indian  fell  headlong.  The  enemy  now  sus- 
pended the  attack  to  counsel  with  one  another  upon 
the  means  which  were  to  be  employed,  but  evidently 
despairing  of  success  that  evening,  as  it  was  growing 
late,  they  determined  to  retire  until  the  next  morning. 

Left  to  themselves,  the  two  spies  now  had  time  to 
look  around,  and  devise  means  for  the  continuance 
of  their  defense  on  the  following  day ;  or,  if  possible, 
for  effecting  their  escape  in  the  dark.  While  talking 
over  the  events  of  the  day,  they  suddenly  perceived 
that  their  new  companion,  the  young  girl,  was  miss- 
ing ;  and,  concluding  that  she  had  left  them  and  re- 
turned to  the  Indians,  to  whom,  as  they  supposed, 
she  would  betray  their  position,  and  give  information 
respecting  their  weakness,  they  bitterly  reproached 
themselves  for  sparing  her  life. 

It  was  now  earnestly  debated  whether,  under  the 
circumstances,  it  would  be  advisable  to  attempt  to 
pass  through  the  enemy's  lines,  or  to  continue  to  lie 
in  concealment,  depending  upon  the  good  fortune 
which  had  thus  far  attended  them  to  give  them  the 
advantage  in  the  contesjt  of  the  next  day.  While  dis- 
cussing this  important  question,  the  night  came  on; 
but  the  spies  did  not  relax  their  vigilance,  fearing  that 
the  Indians  might  take  advantage  of  the  darkness  to 
steal  upon  them. 

A  slight  rustling  in  the  bushes,  and  the  tread  of 
soft  footsteps,  soon  confirmed  their  fears,  and  they 
were  instantly  on  the  alert.  Immediately  afterward 

a  form  was  seen   gliding  toward  them  through  the 
7 


IO8  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

darkness.  The  rifles  were  aimed,  and  McClellan  was 
about  to  shoot,  when  a  voice,  which  White  recognized 
as  that  of  the  young  white  woman  whom  he  had  mer- 
cifully spared,  addressed  them  in  English,  telling  them 
not  to  be  afraid.  The  suspicion  which  they  had  en- 
tertained of  her  treachery  was  now  strengthened  to 
certainty;  for  they  were  convinced  that  the  Indians, 
availing  themselves  of  her  knowledge  of  their  posi- 
tion, had  commanded  her  to  lead  the  way  to  the  place 
where  they  were  concealed,  and  that  she,  presuming 
upon  her  fancied  familiarity  with  them,  had  consented 
to  engage  them  in  conversation,  thus  hoping  to  throw 
them  off  their  guard.  White,  therefore,  sternly  com- 
manded her  to  desist,  telling  her  that  they  were  aware 
of  her  motive,  and  were  prepared  for  the  attack.  This 
language  evidently  gave  the  girl  great  concern,  and 
with  a  tremulous  voice  she  assured  them  that  their 
suspicions  were  unfounded,  and  earnestly  requested 
them  to  permit  her  to  rejoin  them.  Her  words  and 
motives  seemed  so  sincere  that  her  request  was  at  last 
granted,  and  she  came  forward,  carrying  a  gun  in  her 
hand. 

McClellan  and  White  now  listened  to  a  very  re- 
markable recital.  The  young  woman  whom  they 
had  reproached  with  treachery  proved  to  be  their 
deliverer.  It  was  she  who  had  fired  the  two  shots 
which  had  saved  them  at  their  most  perilous  moment. 
Upon  arriving  with  White  at  the  spies'  -retreat,  she 
had  made  a  careful  examination  of  the  ground ;  and, 
perceiving  that  the  steep  rock  was  the  point  from 
which  the  greatest  danger  was  to  be  feared,  had 


SPY-LIFE. — ROBERT   McCLELLAN.  IOQ 

determined,  at  any  risk,  to  protect  her  friends  from 
attack  from  this  quarter.  But,  as  she  had  no  rifle, 
and  no  means  of  securing  one,  she  was  for  some  time 
in  doubt  how  to  proceed.  During  the  heat  of  the 
contest,  she  saw  an  Indian  fall  at  some  distance  from 
his  companions.  Here,  thought  she,  was  her  oppor- 
tunity. Stealing  from  her  friends,  who  were  too, 
busily  engaged  to  notice  her  movements,  she  crept 
to  the  place  where  the  warrior  lay,  secured  his  gun 
and  ammunition,  and,  cautiously  making  her  way 
through  the  underbrush,  gained  the  fatal  rock,  con- 
cealed herself  in  a  position  where  she  could  see 
every  hostile  movement  of  the  Indians,  and  waited 
until  the  critical  moment  before  risking  a  fire.  After 
killing  the  first  Indian,  she  quickly  re-charged  her 
gun,  and  took  a  sure  aim  at  the  next  one,  with  the 
result  already  told.  The  death  of  this  second  savage 
was  to  her  a  source  ot  double  satisfaction ;  for  it  not 
only  insured  the  present  safety  of  her  companions, 
but  also  afforded  her  high  personal  gratification. 
This  Indian  was  the  most  warlike  and  bloodthirsty 
of  the  Shawnee  tribe,  and  it  was  he  who  had  led  the 
band  which  had  made  the  midnight  attack  on  the  dwell- 
ing of  her  parents,  killed  her  mother  and  sister,  and 
taken  her  and  her  brother  captives.  Thus,  after  ten 
years'  time,  during  which  she  had  vainly  watched  and 
prayed  for  an  opportunity  of  retaliating,  she  was 
made  the  instrument  of  avenging  justice, — so  true 
is  it  that  there  is  no  human  power  that  can  evade  the 
search  and  vigil  "of  him  who  treasures  up  a  wrong." 
Whtn  the *girl  had  related  the  part  which  she  had 


IIO  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

taken  in  the  day's  adventures,  her  companions  hailed 
her  as  their  preserver,  and  expressed  their  sorrow  for 
casting  suspicions  so  unjust  on  her  conduct.  After 
a  brief  consultation,  it  was  decided  that  the  only  hope 
which  they  now  had  was  of  stealing  away  under  cover 
of  the  darkness,  passing  the  enemy's  outposts,  and 
gaining  the  forest.  Slight  as  this  hope  was,  they  de- 
termined to  base  all  their  calculations  upon  it ;  and 
it  was  accordingly  arranged  that  the  girl,  who  was 
thoroughly  familiar  with  the  nature  of  the  country, 
and  therefore  with  the  probable  positions  held  by  the 
Indian  guards,  should  take  the  lead,  while  the  men 
should  follow,  subject  to  her  direction  and  orders. 

The  darkness  of  the  night  and  the  inclemency  of 
the  weather  both  favored  their  enterprise.  During 
the  afternoon  the  sky  had  been  overcast,  and  now 
the  rain  came  down  in  torrents,  while  the  thunder 
rolled  heavily,  thus  preventing  those  who  were  on 
watch  from  catching  the  sound  of  their  retreating 
steps. 

The  party  had  not  gone  more  than  one  hundred 
yards  when,  immediately  in  front  of  them,  they  saw 
the  dark  form  of  an  Indian  sentinel.  The  girl  gave 
a  low  whist,  and  the  men  sank  silently  to  the  ground. 
Their  guide  now  went  forward  alone ;  and,  a  moment 
afterward,  McClellan  and  White  heard  her  conversing 
in  'low  tones  with  the  Indian  warrior.  The  conversa- 
tion ceased  ;  and  the  spies  were  about  to  rise,  thinking 
that  the  girl,  having  succeeded  in  throwing  the  man 
off  his  guard,  would  instantly  return,  and  give  the 
order  to  proceed.  They  looked  for  her,  however, 


SPY-LIFE. ROBERT    McCLELLAN.  Ill 

in  vain.  Many  minutes  passed,  and  still  the  girl  did 
not  appear.  The  most  ominous  apprehensions  now 
began  to  take  possession  of  their  minds,  and  the 
doubts  which  they  had  formerly  entertained  of  her 
good  faith  returned  with  added  force.  These,  how- 
ever, were  once  more  removed;  for,  at  the  end  of 
about  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  their  companion  appeared, 
and  gave  the  signal  for  them  to  rise  and  go  forward. 
Her  long  absence  had  been  occasioned  by  delays  due 
to  the  difficulty  which  she  had  had  in  removing  the 
Indian  sentinels,  two  of  whom  stood  directly  in  their 
route. 

Resuming  their  flight,  they  proceeded  for  about 
half  a  mile,  in  profound  silence,  without  meeting 
any  of  their  foes.  Suddenly  the  furious  barking  of 
a  dog  close  at  hand  gave  them  new  cause  of  con- 
cern. The  men  raised  and  cocked  their  rifles,  sup- 
posing that  the  trial  had  at  length  come,  and  that 
discovery  was  inevitable ;  but  their  director  whispered 
to  them  that,  as  long  as  they  preserved  absolute 
silence,  and  followed  in  her  footsteps,  they  were 
safe,  since  they  were  now  in  the  midst  of  the  Indian 
village,  where  no  watch  had  been  set,  and  where, 
unless  some  unforeseen  accident  should  occur,  their 
presence  would  not  for  a  moment  be  suspected. 
The  barking  of  the  dog  continued,  and  soon  after- 
ward a  squaw  came  out  of  one  of  the  wigwams ;  but, 
finding  that  it  was  the  white  girl  who  had  occasioned 
the  disturbance,  she  returned  without  making  any 
particular  inquiries.  In  a  short  time  the  village  was 
cleared,  and  the  girl  informed  her  friends  that  the 


112  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

greatest  danger  had  been  passed,  and  that  they  might 
proceed  with  more  expedition.  The  forest  was  quickly 
gained;  and  the  three  adventurers,  knowing  that 
every  thing  depended  upon  haste,  set  out  on  a  run, 
never  stopping  until  noon  of  the  next  day,  by  which 
time  they  were  confident  that  they  had  placed  a  suffi- 
cient distance  between  themselves  and  their  pursuers. 
They  reached  their  destination  in  safety ;  and,  as  the 
event  proved,  their  daring  enterprise  and  successful 
escape  so  greatly  discouraged  and  worried  their  ene- 
mies that  the  contemplated  expedition  was  abandoned. 
The  woman  to  whom  the  spies  owed  their  delivery, 
and  whom  they  now  restored  to  her  friends,  was  the 
sister  of  the  brave  Colonel  Washburn,  so  distinguished 
in  the  early  history  of  the  West  as  the  spy  of  Simon 
Kenton's  famous  "  Bloody  Kentuckians." 

The  heroism  and  address  which  McClellan  dis- 
played in  this  undertaking  gave  him  an  immediate 
reputation  throughout  the  West,  and  obtained  for 
him  constant  employment  in  a  scouting  capacity. 
In  1791,  he  removed  to  Fort  Washington,  and,  in 
the  spring  of  the  following  year,  he  went  to  Fort 
Hamilton,  where  he  engaged  for  a  time  in  the  com- 
missary department  of  the  army;  but,  wearying  of 
this  peaceful  occupation,  he  soon  gave  it  up,  and 
entered  the  scouting  service  in  the  army  of  General 
Wayne,  at  that  time  quartered  at  Fort  Greenville,  in 
preparation  for  a  final  campaign  against  the  Indians. 

The  company  of  spies  to  which  McClellan  now 
attached  himself  was  commanded  by  the  brave  and 
famous  Captain  William  Wells,  whose  familiarity  with 


SPY-LIFE. ROBERT    McCLELLAN.  113 

the  character  of  the  Indian  tribes,  and  their  modes 
of  warfare,  made  him  a  most  valuable  ally.  He  had 
been  taken  prisoner  by  the  savages  when  very  young, 
and  had  been  raised  by  them  to  manhood,  thus  gain- 
ing a  thorough  knowledge  of  the  various  warlike  arts 
practised  by  them,  and  an  acquaintance  with  several 
of  their  languages.  The  band  of  spies,  of  which  he 
was  the  leader,  numbered  four  besides  himself;  and 
of  these  Robert  McClellan  was  recognized  by  him, 
as  well  as  by  his  companions,  to  be  the  most  efficient 
and  reliable.  Next  to  McClellan,  in  the  estimation 
of  Captain  Wells,  stood  Henry  Miller,  who,  with  a 
younger  brother  named  Christopher,  had  been  led 
into  captivity  in  early  youth.  Henry  made  his  es- 
cape when  about  twenty-four  years  old,  and  re- 
turned to  his  friends;  but  Christopher  had  become 
56  attached  to  the  free  and  lawless  life  which  he  led 
with  the  Indians,  that  he  could  not  be  induced  to 
give  it  up,  but  continued  to  reside  with  them  after 
his  brother's  departure. 

A  full  history  of  the  adventures  of  this  daring  band 
would  require  many  pages ;  and  even  a  partial  account 
of  them  would  occupy  a  space  entirely  out  of  propor- 
tion to  that  which  can  fairly  be  given  for  the  purpose 
in  the  present  work.  It  will  be  sufficient  to  relate, 
for  the  entertainment  of  our  readers,  a  few  of  the 
more  interesting  incidents  connected  with  their  scout- 
ing expeditions. 

In  the  month  of  June,  1 794,  the  company  of  Captain 
Wells  received  instructions  to  march  into  the  forest, 
and  bring  into  camp,  in  the  course  of  a  few  days,  an 


114  TIIE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

Indian  prisoner,  in  order  that  General  Wayne  might, 
by  means  of  close  questioning,  gain  some  information 
concerning  the  intentions  of  the  enemy.  Taking  with 
him  Robert  McClellan  and  Henry  Miller,  Wells  pro- 
ceeded to  execute  the  commands  which  he  had  re- 
ceived; and,  marching  through  the  Indian  country, 
soon  reached  the  Auglaize  River,  and  advanced  into 
the  territory  of  the  Shawnees. 

The  spies  proceeded  jbr  some  distance  without  per- 
ceiving any  signs  of  the  enemy ;  but  at  last  discovered, 
a  short  way  ahead,  a  small  cloud  of  smoke,  rising,  no 
doubt,  from  an  Indian  camp-fire.  They  dismounted, 
and,  advancing  cautiously,  soon  saw  three  Indians 
seated  around  a  fire  on  an  open  spot  of  ground.  Re- 
connoitering  the  position  of  the  enemy,  they  found 
that  it  would  be  very  difficult  to  approach  within  a 
sufficient  distance  to  bring  them  in  range;  for  a  con- 
siderable space  intervened  in  which  there  were  no 
trees  that  would  afford  shelter.  There  was,  however, 
one  large  fallen  oak;  and  it  was  determined  to  creep 
along  the  trunk,  conceal  themselves  in  the  branches, 
and  then  fire. 

The  tree-top  was  gained,  and  the  spies  were  now 
within  seventy  or  eighty  yards  of  the  camp.  The 
plan  of  attack  was  quickly  laid.  It  was  determined 
to  kill  two  of  the  Indians,  and  take  the  other  prisoner. 
The  shooting  was  to  be  done  by  Wells  and  Miller ; 
while  McClellan,  who  was  the  swiftest  of  foot  and 
most  agile,  was  to  give  chase  to  the  third,  bring  him 
to  bay,  and  hold  him  until  his  companions  should  ar- 
rive. 


SPY-LIFE. — ROBERT    McCLELLAN.  115 

The  Indians  were  seated  around  the  fire,  smoking 
and  laughing.  One  was  on  the  right,  another  was  on 
the  left,  and  the  third  was  in  the  center.  The  third 
man  was  pointed  out  by  McClellan  as  the  one  who 
was  to  be  spared;  and,  without  further  ado,  Wells 
and  Miller  raised  their  rifles  to  their  shoulders,  and, 
at  the  signal  given  by  McClellan,  fired.  Without 
waiting  to  see  the  result, — for  he  knew  that  his 
friends  never  needed  to  shoot  twice,  —  McClellan 
bounded  off,  tomahawk  in  hand,  in  pursuit  of  the 
fugitive.  The  Indian  gave  a  loud  cry,  and  ran  down 
the  river ;  but,  seeing  that  his  enemy  would  soon 
head  him,  turned  and  made  directly  for  the  stream. 
This  he  reached  at  a  point  where  a  bluff,  about 
twenty  feet  high,  made  a  precipitous  descent;  and, 
without  waiting  to  consider  the  consequences  of  the 
leap,  plunged  into  the  stream  below,  sinking,  as  he 
did  so,  up  to  his  waist  in  the  thick  mud.  Immedi- 
ately after,  McClellan  arrived,  and  he  also  jumped 
without  hesitation  into  the  river. 

Before  he  had  time  to  recover  an  upright  position, 
the  Indian  made  a  savage  thrust  at  him  with  his 
knife,  but  this  was  parried;  and,  raising  his  toma- 
hawk, McClellan  ordered  his  enemy  to  surrender, 
swearing  that,  in  case  of  a  refusal,  he  would  instantly 
bury  the  weapon  in  his  head.  Incapable  of  further 
resistance,  the  Indian  threw  down  his  knife,  and  gave 
himself  up;  and  McClellan  then  quietly  awaited  the 
arrival  of  his  two  companions. 

Wells  and  Miller  soon  reached  the  bank;  and, 
dragging  the  captive  from  the  mud,  washed  his  body, 


Il6  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

and  bound  him  securely.  To  their  great  surprise, 
he  proved  to  be  a  white  man;  and,  upon  a  more  nar- 
row examination,  Miller  was  struck  with  amazement 
and  mortification  to  see  that  he  was  his  brother, 
Christopher,  whom  he  had  left  about  two  years  be- 
fore with  the  Indians.  He  was  very  morose  and 
refused  to  speak,  but,  upon  being  called  by  his 
name,  he  instantly  turned  round;  and,  recognizing 
after  a  few  moments  the  man  who  addressed  him  to 
be  his  brother  Henry,  became  more  communicative, 
and  proceeded  with  his  captors  more  cheerfully. 
Upon  arriving  at  Fort  Greenville, — at  that  time  the 
station  of  the  army, — he  was  placed  in  the  guard- 
house. General  Wayne,  Captain  Wells,  and  Henry 
Miller  frequently  interviewed  him,  soliciting  him  to 
leave  his  present  disreputable  life  and  join  his  country- 
men ;  and,  though  he  was  at  first  indisposed  to  com- 
ply, he  finally  consented,  joined  Wells's  company  of 
rangers,  and  fought  bravely  and  faithfully  until  the 
close  of  the  Indian  war. 

It  will  be  remembered  that  Captain  Wells,  the 
leader  of  the  band  of  spies  of  which  McClellan  was 
a  member,  had  been  taken  prisoner  by  the  Indians 
while  a  youth,  and  raised  by  them  to  manhood. 
Although  a  man  of  the  most  desperate  character  in 
enterprise  or  battle,  possessing  very  few  of  the  softer 
feelings,  he  still  had  many  noble  impulses,  and  on 
several  occasions  showed  a  forbearance  and  gener- 
osity which  proved  him  to  be  as  humane  as  he  was 
courageous. 

While  on  one  of  his  scouting  expeditions  on  the 


SPY-LIFE. ROBERT    McCLELLAM.  117 

banks  of  the  river  St.  Mary,  he  discovered  a  family 
of  Indians  coming  up  the  stream  in  a  small  canoe. 
Intending  to  kill  the  m;  n  of  the  party,  and  take  the 
women  and  children  prisoners,  he  ordered  his  com- 
panions to  conceal  themselves  in  the  underbrush, 
and  wait  for  the  signal  which  he  agreed  to  give. 
He  then  went  to  the  bank  and  hailed  the  Indians, 
requesting  them  to  row  to  the  shore.  This  they 
did  without  hesitation ;  for  Wells  was  dressed  in 
Indian  costume,  and  the  party  in  the  boat  had  no 
suspicion  of  the  presence  of  an  enemy  in  that  part 
of  the  country.  The  canoe  reached  the  shore;  and 
the  spies,  who  were  lying  in  wait  for  them,  raised 
their  guns  in  momentary  expectation  of  the  precon- 
certed signal.  But,  instead  of  ordering  his  comrades 
to  fire,  Wells  suddenly  turned  round  and  called  to 
them  to  desist,  swearing  that  the  man  who  should 
attempt  to  injure  any  one  of  the  party  should  in- 
stantly receive  a  ball  through  his  head.  This  unex- 
pected address  gave  his  companions  great  displeas- 
ure ;  and,  coming  forward,  with  their  rifles  still 
leveled,  they  demanded  the  meaning  of  his  singular 
order.  Wells  then  informed  them  that,  the  moment 
the  boat  struck  the  shore,  he  had  discovered  that  its 
occupants  were  his  Indian  father  and  mother  and 
their  children.  That  father  and  mother,  he  said, 
had  "fed  him  when  he  was  hungry,  clothed  him 
when  he  was  naked,  and  kindly  nursed  him  when 
sick;  and  in  every  respect  were  as  kind  and  affec- 
tionate to  him  as  they  were  to  their  own  children." 
He  added  that  though  he  could  perform  the  bloodi- 


Jl8  THE   BACK-WOODSMEN. 

est  deeds  without  the  slightest  compunction  of  con- 
science, and  shoot  or  tomahawk  the  most  defense- 
less savage  without  mercy,  he  had  not  the  heart  to 
injure  these  poor  creatures;  but,  on  the  contrary, 
would  at  all  times,  and  under  all  circumstances,  pro- 
tect them  with  his  life.  His  motives  and  conduct 
were  commended  by  his  companions,  who  threw  down 
their  guns ;  and,  going  to  the  canoe,  shook  hands  with 
the  trembling  Indians,  assuring  them  that  they  had 
nothing  to  fear,  and  telling  them  that  they  might  con- 
tinue on  their  journey  unmolested. 

In  all  of  their  scouting  excursions,  "Wells  and  his 
men  were  provided  with  the  best  horses  which  the 
army  could  afford,  and  were  allowed  by  their  superior 
officers  the  greatest  possible  liberty  of  action,  being 
permitted  to  come  and  go  at  pleasure ;  and,  on  their 
return  to  camp,  being  rewarded  with  the  highest  hon- 
ors and  extended  the  greatest  privileges  which  soldiers 
can  enjoy.  When  on  their  hostile  expeditions,  they 
were  always  dressed  and  painted  after  the  Indian 
fashion;  and,  as  each  of  them  was  thoroughly  fami- 
liar with  the  Indian  tongues  and  customs,  they  fre- 
quently passed,  even  among  the  shrewdest  Indian 
warriors,  as  natives.  They  therefore  had  numerous 
opportunities  of  imposing  upon  their  enemies,  and 
thus  gaining  information  of  the  most  valuable  char- 
acter. 

On  one  occasion,  toward  the  close  of  General 
Wayne's  memorable  campaign  against  the  Indians, 
they  were  dispatched  with  orders  to  bring  in  an  In- 
dian prisoner.  The  army  had  arrived  at  the  place 


SPY-LIFE. ROBERT    McCLELLAN.  119 

now  known  as  Fort  Defiance ;  and  the  surrounding 
country  was  known  to  be  filled  with  bands  of  war- 
riors, hastening  to  join  the  main  body  of  Indians, 
which  had  gathered  to  oppose  General  Wayne's 
march.  The  expedition  of  the  scouts  was,  there- 
fore, a  peculiarly  venturesome  one,  since,  in  hunting 
for  stragglers,  they  were  in  great  danger  of  meeting 
with  parties  which  would  prove  too  strong  for  them. 

Taking  their  way  down  the  Maumee  River,  they 
came  to  an  Indian  village,  into  which  they  rode  boldly, 
pretending  that  they  had  just  come  from  a  British 
fort  some  distance  above  and  were  on  their  way  to 
take  a  part  in  the  fight  which  was  now  near  at  hand. 
They  were  painted  and  dressed  in  full  style ;  and, 
occasionally  stopping  to  talk  with  the  inhabitants, 
who  came  out  to  look  at  them,  they  passed  along 
with  the  greatest  apparent  indifference,  boasting  and 
swaggering  in  true  Indian  fashion.  No  suspicion  was 
aroused,  and  they  soon  left  the  town  and  continued 
on  their  way. 

Immediately  after  their  departure  from  the  village, 
they  met  an  Indian  man  and  woman  returning  on 
horseback  from  the  hunt.  Closing  around  them,  they 
obliged  them  to  surrender;  and,  securing  their  prison- 
ers, they  set  out  on  their  return,  highly  elated  with 
the  success  of  their  adventure. 

Riding  rapidly  in  the  direction  of  Fort  Defiance, 
but  keeping  at  the  same  time  a  sharp  lookout  for 
bands  of  hostile  Indians,  they  came,  shortly  after 
dark,  to  a  large  encampment.  The  prisoners  were 
now  given  to  understand  that  they  must  preserve 


I2O  THE   BACK-WOODSMEN. 

the  most  implicit  silence,  or  receive  the  punishment 
of  instant  death.  After  making  a'  partial  circuit  of 
ihe  camp,  the  adventurers  rode  off  in  the  homeward 
direction  about  half  a  mile,  when  they  dismounted ; 
and,  taking  their  prisoners,  gagged  and  bound  them. 
A  consultation  on  the  course  which  they  should 
pursue  followed,  when  McClellan,  who  was  loath  to 
return  without  some  enterprise  of  a  more  stirring 
nature,  proposed  that  they  should  ride  boldly  into 
the  midst  of  the  Indians,  provoke  an  altercation, 
shoot  an  Indian  apiece,  and  then  fly  for  their  lives. 
This  proposition  was  no  sooner  made  than  it  was 
agreed  to.  The  spies  put  spurs  to  their  horses  ; 
and,  dashing  into  the  camp,  halted,  laid  their  rifles 
across  the  pummels  of  their  saddles,  and  engaged  in 
friendly  conversation  with  the  Indian  warriors,  who 
were  sitting  peaceably  around  their  fires  smoking 
their  pipes.  McClellan  and  Wells  asked  them  many 
questions  regarding  the  supposed  strength  of  General 
Wayne,  his  probable  intentions,  and  the  preparations 
'which  had  been  made  to  resist  him;  to  all  of  which 
the  Indians  replied  very  fully,  volunteering  much  use- 
ful information.  As  the  warriors  became  more  com- 
municative, the  spies  grew  more  inquisitive  and  bois- 
terous; and  finally  the  suspicions  of  the  enemy  were 
awakened,  and  some  of  the  braves  arose  and  went 
for  their  rifles.  At  this  point  an  old  Indian,  who 
had  been  watching  them  closely,  was  heard  to  re- 
mark, in  an  undertone,  that  he  fancied  that  these 
men  were  bent  on  mischief.  Instantly  Captain  Wells 
gave  the  signal  for  attack;  each  man  leveled  his  gun, 


THE    BANGERS     rlTHE    INTO  THE  INDIAN  CAMP. 


A  BLOODY  BATTLE  WITH  INDIANS. 


SPY— LIFE. ROBERT    McCLELLAN.  123 

and  four  Indians  fell  dead.  Lying  down  on  the  backs 
of  their  horses,  the  spies  rode  swiftly  away,  and  were 
soon  out  of  the  light  of  the  camp-fires.  Their  indis- 
cretion had,  however,  been  so  great,  that  some  of 
the  Indians  were  apprised  of  their  purpose,  and  were 
on  guard ;  so  that,  before  they  had  time  to  get  out 
of  range,  they  were  overtaken  by  a  volley  of  bullets. 
McClellan  received  a  serious  wound  from  a  ball  which 
entered  his  body  under  the  shoulder-blade  and  came 
out  at  the  shoulder;  while  Captain  Wells  was  shot 
through  the  arm,  and  his  wound  was  so  sharp  and 
painful  that  he  was  obliged  to  drop  his  rifle.  The 
horse  of  one  of  the  party  (Mr.  May)  slipped  on  a 
smooth  rock  and  fell  with  its  rider,  who,  before  he 
could  rise,  was  overtaken  by  the  Indians,  carried  to 
the  camp,  and  the  next  day  tied  to  a  tree  and  shot 
dead. 

The  three  remaining  spies  made  good  their  es- 
cape; and,  reaching  the  place  where  they  had  left 
their  prisoners,  quickly  unbound  them,  and  pursued 
their  retreat.  The  distance  to  Fort  Defiance  was 
over  thirty  miles  ;  and,  as  McClellan  and  Wells  both 
suffered  a  great  deal  from  their  wounds,  it  was  de- 
termined to  dispatch  the  man  who  had  escaped  sound 
to  head-quarters  for  a  surgeon  and  guard.  The  mes- 
senger departed,  arrived  at  the  fort,  and  made  known 
his  want  to  General  Wayne,  who  immediately  granted 
the  request,  and  sent  a  skillful  surgeon  with  a  body 
of  dragoons  to  relieve  his  two  favorite  scouts.  The 
wounds  of  McClellan  and  Wells  were  soon  bandaged, 
the  retreat  was  made  in  safety,  and  the  prisoners  were 


124  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

turned  over  to  General  Wayne,  who  questioned  them 
narrowly,  and  obtained  from  them  much  valuable 
knowledge  respecting  the  strength,  position,  and  de- 
signs of  the  enemy. 

This  incident  occurred  a  short  time  before  the  de- 
cisive battle  which  put  an  end  to  the  Indian  struggle. 
With  the  crushing  defeat  of  the  savages  by  General 
Wayne,  our  account  of  the  adventures  of  Wells  and 
McClellan  and  their  brave  companions  terminates; 
for,  so  complete  was  the  victory  gained  by  the  whites, 
that  Indian  warfare  in  this  part  of  the  country  be- 
came a  thing  of  the  past,  and  consequently  the  ad- 
venturous scouts,  who  had  contributed  so  much  to 
bring  about  the  fortunate  result,  were  obliged  to 
seek  new  fields  of  enterprise.  The  company  was 
disbanded,  and  the  paths  of  the  men  who  had  com- 
posed it  diverged.  Captain  Wells  continued  his 
adventurous  life  for  a  time,  and  then  settled  with 
his  wife  and  family  on  a  spot  of  ground,  granted 
him  by  the  government,  in  southern  Indiana;  but, 
falling  back  into  his  former  ways,  he  became  for 
awhile  an  Indian  agent;  and  finally,  at  the  outbreak 
of  the  second  war  with  Great  Britain,  was  killed 
while  bravely  resisting,  with  a  very  inferior  force, 
an  Indian  attack.  The  subsequent  life  of  McClel- 
lan is  so  interesting,  that  the  following  short  ac- 
count of  it  has  been  written  for  these  pages. 


ROBERT  McCLELLAN  ON  THE  PLAINS. 


ON  the  1 2th  of  September,  1806,  Captain  Clarke, 
while  descending  the  Missouri,  on  his  return  from 
the  famous  Lewis  and  Clarke  expedition  to  the  Pacific 
coast,  met  a  large  boat  containing  twelve  men,  who, 
as  he  learned,  on  questioning  them,  were  going  up 
the  river  to  trade  with  the  Maha  Indians.  Standing 
in  the  middle  of  the  craft  he  recognized  the  stalwart 
and  intrepid  ranger,  Robert  McClellan,  with  whom  he 
had  many  years  before,  while  a  lieutenant  in  the  army 
of  General  Wayne,  formed  a  familiar  acquaintance. 
Saluting  his  old  friend,  Clarke  inquired  of  him  regard- 
ing the  news  from  the  States;  and,  after  the  inter- 
change of  a  few  words,  both  parties  put  to  shore,  and 
the  two  men  spent  the  evening  in  relating  the  ex- 
periences which  they  had  passed  through  since  they 
had  fought  with  Wayne  in  his  memorable  campaign. 
McClellan  informed  his  friend  that,  after  the  dis- 
bandment  of  the  scouting  corps  with  which  he  had 
been  connected,  he  had  returned  to  civil  life,  and  en- 
gaged for  some  years  in  mercantile  occupations. 
Looking  sharply  to  the  main  chance,  he  had,  early  in 
1 80 1,  opened  a  trading  station  on  the  Ohio  River, 
about  twenty  miles  from  its  mouth,  and,  succeeding 
beyond  expectation  in  his  business,  had  determined 

to  go  farther  West  and  continue  it  on  a  larger  scale. 

8  («s) 


126  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

To  this  end  he  had  purchased  a  boat,  stocked  it  with 
merchandise,  and  was  now  on  his  way  up  the  Mis- 
souri, to  once  more  begin  a  life  which  he  hoped 
would  this  time  prove  a  peaceable  one  with  the 
Indians. 

In  reply  to  McClellan's  inquiries  concerning  the 
Western  tribes,  Clarke  said  that  he  would  find  some 
of  them  well  disposed,  but  that,  on  the  whole,  they 
were  a  set  of  very  rascally,  deceitful,  and  turbulent 
fellows ;  and  he  assured  him  that  he  would  not  have 
to  penetrate  far  into  the  Western  country  before  he 
should  find  plenty  of  room  for  adventure.  Taking 
leave  of  his  friend  the  next  morning,  Clarke  continued 
on  his  homeward  voyage,  while  McClellan,  with  his 
eleven  companions,  pushed  forward  on  an  enterprise 
which,  as  the  event  proved,  was  to  yield  a  series  of 
the  most  stirring  adventures,  and  from  which  he  was 
destined  never  to  return  to  his  home. 

The  trade  with  the  Indians  in  this  part  of  the  coun- 
try was  carried  on  chiefly  by  a  number  of  wealthy 
Frenchmen  of  St.  Louis,  who  naturally  looked  with 
jealousy  on  the  enterprise  of  their  young  competitor, 
and  did  not  scruple  to  throw  every  obstacle  in  his 
way,  secretly  encouraging  the  Indians  to  acts  of  hos- 
tility. But  McClellan,  knowing  that  his  right  was 
legally  good,  determined  to  maintain  perfect  inde- 
pendence, and  return  all  opposition  with  interest,  gov- 
erning his  course  by  the  maxim,  eminently  character- 
istic, to  "strictly  observe  the  letter  of  the  law  and 
fear  no  d — d  rascals." 

In  1 807,  while  on  a  trading  expedition  to  the  upper 


ROBERT  McCLELLAN  ON  THE   PLAINS.  127 

tribes,  in  company  with  Mr.  Ramsay  Crooks,  with 
whom  he  had  formed  a  business  partnership,  an  op- 
portunity offered  for  testing  the  resolution  which  he 
had  adopted.  While  passing  through  a  wild  region 
of  country,  occupied  by  the  warlike  tribes  of  the 
Sioux,  the  voyagers  suddenly  heard  a  succession  of 
terrific  yells  proceeding  from  the  cliffs  overhanging 
the  bank  of  the  fiver,  and,  looking  up,  they  saw  a 
multitude  of  hostile  warriors,  armed  with  tomahawks, 
bows  and  arrows,  and  other  weapons,  threatening 
opposition  and  menacing  attack.  McClellan's  band 
was  about  forty  strong,  and  to  invite  a  conflict  would 
therefore  have  been  extremely  unwise.  A  parley 
followed,  and  the  result  was  that  the  traders  were 
obliged  to  abandon  their  enterprise  and  land  at  a 
point  lower  down  the  stream.  Here  they  were  per- 
mitted to  erect  a  station,  and,  leaving  six  or  eight 
warriors  to  watch  them,  the  main  body  of  the  Sioux 
returned  to  their  village.  They  had  no  sooner  de- 
parted than  McClellan  and  Crooks  again  launched 
their  canoe  and  set  out  for  their  original  destination, 
determined  not  to  be  hindered  in  their  object.  By 
hard  rowing  they  soon  placed  themselves  beyond  the 
reach  of  their  savage  enemies,  and,  arriving  at  the 
place  which  McClellan  had  chosen,  built  a  traders' 
hut  and  opened  traffic.  This  momentary  hinderance  to 
the  success  of  their  enterprise  was  due,  as  McClellan 
afterward  learned,  to  the  machinations  of  one  Manual 
Lisa,  a  Spaniard,  one  of  the  "  d— d  rascals"  whom 
he  had  determined  not  to  fear ;  and,  so  incensed  was 
he  at  the  cowardly  methods  employed  by  his  unscru- 


128  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

pulous  rival,  that  McClellan  declared  that,  if  he  ever 
met  the  villain,  he  would  not  hesitate  to  shoot  him  on 
the  spot. 

Although  the  traders  had  succeeded  in  outgeneral- 
ing the  Sioux,  they  were  not  destined  to  carry  on 
their  traffic  unmolested.  After  conducting  their 
trading  busines  for  some  years,  with  varying  success, 
they  were  one  day  surprised  by  a  large  party  of 
Sioux  warriors,  who,  surrounding  the  cabin,  disarmed 
the  men,  broke  into  the  store-room,  and  appropriated 
to  themselves  the  goods  with  which  it  was  stocked. 
At  the  time  of  the  attack  McClellan  was  absent, 
hunting  for  deer.  Returning  about  dusk,  he  found  a 
number  of  the  rascally  fellows  busily  engaged  in  fin- 
ishing the  work  of  plunder,  and,  walking  in  among 
them,  he  commanded  them  to  desist  and  restore  what 
they  had  wrongfully  taken.  The  Indians,  knowing  it 
was  very  dangerous  to  provoke  his  fiery  temper,  dis- 
ereetly  complied,  and  returned  every  thing  in  their 
possession  ;  but,  unfortunately,  the  value  of  what  they 
turned  over  amounted  to  only  a  small  part  of  that  car- 
ried away,  and  McClellan  found,  on  calculation,  that 
he  had  sustained  a  loss  of  fully  two  thousand  five 
hundred  dollars. 

Sharing  what  he  had  left  with  his  men,  McClellan 
abandoned  his  business,  once  more  launched  his  boat, 
and  set  out  on  his  return  to  St.  Louis,  determining 
to  give  over  his  project  of  Indian  trading,  and  en- 
gage in  occupations  in  which  he  should  have  fewer 
"d — d  rascals"  to  deal  with.  This  determination 
was,  however,  soon  surrendered.  At  the  mouth  of 


ROBERT  McCLELLAN  ON  THE  PLAINS.  I  2Q 

the  Nodowa  River  McClellan  found  a  party  of  ad- 
venturers, under  the  command  of  Wilson  P.  Hunt, 
who  had  come  to  the  West  in  the  interest  of  the 
Astor  American  Fur  Company;  and,  finding  in  this 
party  his  old  friend  Ramsay  Crooks  (with  whom  he 
had  dissolved  partnership  some  time  previous),  he 
was  easily  induced  to  join  it,  and,  by  the  purchase 
of  a  few  shares,  obtain  an  interest  in  the  profits  of 
the  enterprise. 

The  expedition  under  the  command  of  Mr.  Hunt 
was  one  of  two  sent  out  by  John  Jacob  Astor  to  trade 
with  the  Indians  and  explore  and  develop  the  great 
North-west.  The  destination  of  both  expeditions  was 
the  mouth  of  the  Columbia  River.  The  first  had 
been  sent  by  sea,  and  was  in  charge  of  Captain  Jona- 
than Thorn.  The  second,  whose  remarkable  history 
while  on  the  western  plains  we  are  now  about  to 
trace,  left  New  York  in  July,  1810,  proceeded  west  by 
way  of  Montreal,  and,  after  some  difficulties  in  the 
way  of  obtaining  men  to  join  it,  reached  St.  Louis ; 
and,  leaving  that  point  on  the  2ist  of  October, 
started  on  its  long  and  adventurous  overland  jour- 
ney. It  reached  the  mouth  of  the  Nodowa  in  Novem- 
ber, where  it  encamped  for  the  winter,  and  where,  as 
we  have  stated,  it  was  joined  by  McClellan.  In  the 
following  spring  Mr.  Hunt  left  for  St.  Louis  to  obtain 
recruits  and  an  interpreter;  and,  on  his  return,  the 
camp  was  broken  up,  and  the  party,  consisting  of 
about  sixty  persons,  of  whom  forty  were  Canadian 
"voyageurs,"  a  number  hunters,  and  the  rest  men 
of  various  occupations,  embarked  in  four  boats  (one 


130  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

of  which  was  very  large,  and  mounted  a  swivel  and 
two  howitzers)  for  the  Upper  Missouri. 

As  this  period  marks  an  important  epoch  in  the  life 
of  Robert  McClellan,  it  will  be  well,  before  resuming 
the  narrative,  to  indicate  in  his  own  words  his  motives 
and  feelings  upon  embarking  in  this  memorable  en- 
terprise. Writing  to  his  brother  William,  under  date 
of  December  20,  1810,  he  says: 

"  Six  days  ago  I  arrived  at  this  place  from  my 
establishment,  which  is  two  hundred  miles  above,  on 
the  Missouri.  My  mare  is  with  you  at  Hamilton, 
having  two  colts.  I  wish  you  to  give  one  to  brother 
John,  the  other  to  your  son  James,  and  the  mare  to 
your  wife.  If  I  possessed  any  thing  more  except  my 
gun,  at  present,  I  would  throw  it  into  the  river,  or 
give  it  away,  as  I  intend  to  begin  the  world  anew  to- 
morrow." 

The  party  struck  camp  on  the  2ist  of  April,  and, 
continuing  their  voyage,  were  favored  for  a  few  days 
with  fine  weather.  Soon,  however,  the  elements  grew 
less  auspicious ;  the  wind  and  current  became  ad- 
verse, and  delays  were  frequent.  As  they  ap- 
proached the  country  of  the  Sioux  they  proceeded 
with  caution,  although  pushing  forward  with  all  possi- 
ble rapidity;  for  they  had  been  advised  that  the 
Spanish  trader,  Manual  Lisa,  who  had  so  unscrupu- 
lously thrown  obstacles  in  the  path  of  McClellan  and 
Crooks,  was  following,  with  a  number  of  boats  and  a 
large  force,  close  in  their  rear,  with  the  intention  of 
overtaking  and  passing  them,  hoping  to  gain  the  coun- 
try beyond  and  monopolize  the  trading  business 


ROBERT   McCLELLAN   ON  THE  PLAINS. 


there.  They  were  aware  that  Lisa  was  in  league 
with  the  Sioux,  and  that,  if  possible,  he  would  induce 
these  tribes  to  oppose  their  progress  ;  and  they  there- 
fore kept  a  sharp  lookout,  expecting  attack. 

Shortly  after  they  reached  the  country  of  the  Sioux 
they  were  overtaken  by  a  messenger  bearing  a  letter 
from  Lisa,  in  which  it  was  proposed  that  they  should 
halt  until  his  arrival,  in  order  that  the  two  expeditions 
might  proceed  through  the  hostile  region  together. 
An  evasive  answer  was  sent  in  reply,  and  Hunt 
and  his  companions  pressed  forward  with  all  dis- 
patch. 

The  encounter  with  the  Indians,  which  they  looked 
for  with  so  much  dread,  came  at  last,  and  the  worst 
fears  of  the  voyagers  were  realized.  On  the  morn- 
ing of  the  3  1  st  of  May,  while  preparing  their  breakfast, 
the  alarm  was  suddenly  sounded.  Two  Indians  had 
been  seen  on  a  bluff  directly  ahead  of  them,  and  from 

* 

their  suspicious  looks  and  mysterious  movements  it 
was  supposed  that  they  meant  no  good.  Halting  at 
this  point  the  men  breakfasted,  although  keeping  a 
vigilant  watch  and  being  ready  to  assume  the  de- 
fensive at  a  moment's  warning.  After  a  short  ab- 
sence the  two  Indians  reappeared  on  the  bank;  and, 
gesticulating  in  a  very  excited  manner,  commenced  to 
harangue  the  voyagers.  Mr.  Hunt  permitted  them 
to  talk  for  awhile,  apparently  regarding  them  with  in- 
difference, but  finally  taking  with  him  his  Indian  inter- 
preter, he  rowed  to  the  shore  in  order  to  ascertain 
their  meaning.  Instantly  one  of  the  Indians  ran 
swiftly  away,  but  soon  after  reappeared  on  horseback, 


132  THE  BACK-WOODSMEN. 

riding  at  full  speed,  in  a  north-easterly  direction,  over 
the  bluffs.  The  other  Indian  engaged  in  conversa- 
tion with  Mr.  Hunt,  but  from  his  frantic  gestures, 
violent  demeanor  and  abusive  language,  the  men  in 
the  boats  became  convinced  that  very  serious  trouble 
was  brewing. 

Hunt  returned ;  and,  giving  orders  for  each  man  to 
prepare  instantly  for  combat,  as  an  encounter  with  a 
vastly  superior  force  of  the  Sioux  was  inevitable,  com- 
manded that  the  boats  should  proceed.  For  some 
distance  the  view  of  the  bluffs  was  obstructed  by  a 
large  island ;  but,  immediately  upon  rounding  the 
upper  point  of  this  island,  the  voyagers  saw,  to  their 
terror  and  dismay,  the  whole  north-east  bank  of  the 
stream  literally  black  with  hostile  savages,  whose 
numbers  were  being  constantly  increased  by  multi- 
tudes pouring  down  from  the  high  bluffs.  Upon 
catching  a  glimpse  of  the  boats,  the  warriors  set  up 
a  prolonged  yell ;  and,  crowding  along  the  bank, 
stood  with  their  weapons  in  readiness,  awaiting  the 
approach  of  their  victims. 

Hunt  now  held  a  brief  consultation  with  his  offi- 
cers upon  the  plan  to  be  adopted.  Some  were  for 
returning,  others  proposed  a  halt,  and  a  few  thought 
the  only  recourse  to  be  battle.  The  folly  of  at- 
tempting to  escape  was,  however,  soon  evident  to 
all ;  for  the  current  of  the  stream  was  so  swift  as  to 
oblige  the  voyagers  to  keep  close  to  the  bank,  which, 
being  in  places  extremely  steep,  gave  the  Indians  the 
advantage,  enabling  them  to  approach,  fire  a  volley 
at  the  fugitives,  and  then  retire  without  receiving  in- 


ROBERT    McCLELLAN    ON    THE    PLAINS.  133 

jury.  Preparations  were,  therefore,  made  for  the 
battle  which  all  supposed  to  be  imminent. 

Under  the  direction  of  McClellan,  Hunt,  and 
Crooks,  all  the  arms  were  put  in  complete  order, 
and  the  boats  were  rowed  slowly  up  the  stream 
until  they  came  nearly  within  range  of  the  enemy. 
When  in  plain  view  of  the  Indians,  the  men  in  the 
large  boat,  containing  the  swivel  and  howitzers, 
arose,  and  very  ceremoniously  proceeded  to  load 
these  formidable  pieces.  They  first  charged  them 
with  powder  alone ;  and,  applying  the  torch,  fired 
them  simultaneously.  The  tremendous  report  which 
followed  evidently  caused  the  Indians  great  conster- 
nation ;  but  when,  instantly  reloading  the  guns,  and 
firing  them  a  second  time,  the  soldiers  in  the  boat 
demonstrated  their  ability  to  pour  volley  after  volley 
in  swift  succession  into  the  midst  of  their  enemies, 
the  Indians  were  thrown  into  total  confusion.  The 
guns  were  charged  once  more,  this  time  with  powder 
and  ball,  and  Hunt  ordered  the  boats  to  advance. 

The  Indians  now  abandoned  all  offensive  prepara- 
tions ;  and,  putting  away  their  weapons,  spread  their 
buffalo  robes  before  them,  indicating  that  they  had 
no  hostile  intentions,  and  desired  a  parley.  A  num- 
ber of  the  chiefs  came  forward,  descended  to  the 
edge  of  the  river,  and,  sitting  down  on  the  sand, 
formed  a  part  of  a  circle,  and  made  preparations  for 
kindling  a  fire,  in  order  to  light  the  pipe  and  smoke 
the  calumet.  The  whites  were  invited  by  signs  to 
land ;  and  Hunt,  taking  with  him  McClellan  and  five 
others,  rowed  to  the  shore,  first  commanding  his  men 


134  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

to  still  maintain  an  offensive  attitude,  and  be  ready 
to  fire  in  case  of  treachery.  The  party  was  received 
in  a  friendly  manner;  and,  after  smoking  the  pipe, 
Mr.  Hunt  rose  and  addressed  the  chiefs  through  an 
interpreter,  stating  that  he  and  his  companions  had 
come  from  the  great  salt  lake  in  the  east,  and  were 
on  their  way  to  see  some  of  their  brothers  in  the 
west,  for  whom  they  had  been  crying  many  moons ; 
that  for  want  of  their  brothers  their  lives  had  become 
miserable;  that  they  would  rather  die  than  not  see 
their  brothers,  and  that  they  would  kill  every  man 
who  should  attempt  to  frustrate  their  design.  He 
said  that  he  had  heard  that  his  Indian  brothers  were 
bent  on  doing  him  and  his  friends  harm,  but  that  he 
did  not  wish  to  believe  it.  He  concluded  by  ear- 
nestly expressing  the  great  love  which  he  felt  for 
his  red  brethren;  and  assured  them  that,  when  he 
had  planned  his  journey,  he  had  not  been  unmindful 
of  their  wants,  but  had  provided  himself  with  some 
presents  for  them,  which  he  trusted  they  would  re- 
ceive in  token  of  his  friendly  feeling  and  intentions. 
A  supply  of  tobacco  and  corn  was  then  brought  from 
the  boats,  and  piled  up  on  the  shore  near  the  "great 
chief." 

The  offering  was  received,  and  the  Indian  chief, 
rising,  said  that  he  was  in  war  with  several  tribes 
who  lived  a  little  further  on,  and  that  he  had  been 
afraid  that  his  white  brothers,  if  allowed  to  pro- 
ceed, might  take  guns  and  ammunition  to  them ;  but, 
knowing  now  that  his  white  brothers  had  no  such  in- 
tentions, he  was  sorry  for  what  he  and  his  braves  had 


ROBERT    McCLELLAN    ON   THE    PLAINS.  135 

done.  He  said  that  he,  too,  had  absent  brothers 
whom  he  loved,  and  for  whom  he  had  been  crying 
many  moons ;  and  that,  out  of  consideration  for  the 
feelings  of  his  white  friends,  he  would  permit  them 
to  continue  on  their  way  to  the  great  western  salt 
lake.  He  added,  however,  that  his  young  men  were 
not  so  considerate,  and  not  mindful  of  the  affection 
which  he  bore  his  white  brothers,  but  were  inclined 
to  be  wild,  and  might  become  troublesome,  and  so 
concluded  by  advising  Mr.  Hunt  to  encamp  on  the 
other  side  of  the  river. 

Observing  the  spirit  rather  than  the  letter  of  this 
recommendation,  Hunt,  re-embarking,  gave  the  word 
to  proceed,  and  the  boats  were  rowed  as  swiftly  as 
possible  up  the  stream.  During  this  day  and  the 
next  one,  the  party  saw  no  sign  of  danger;  but,  on 
the  succeeding  day,  they  once  more  were  called 
upon  to  exercise  every  precaution,  and  prepare  for 
sanguine  and  stubborn  battle. 

Shortly  after  daybreak,  two  Indians  were  seen  on 
the  bluffs ;  but  these,  instead  of  making  violent  dem- 
onstrations, commenced  to  throw  their  buffalo  robes, 
and  make  signs  of  peace.  The  voyagers  at  once 
landed;  and  the  Indians,  running  to  meet  them, 
went  up  to  McClellan  and  Crooks,  threw  their  arms 
around  them,  and  embraced  and  caressed  them  in 
the  most  fulsome  manner.  These  actions  were  not 
very  much  to  the  liking  of  the  rough  soldiers,  par- 
ticularly when  they  recognized  in  the  savages  the 
chiefs  who  had  led  the  war-party  which  had  at- 
tempted to  obstruct  their  progress  several  years 


136  THE   BACK-WOODSMEN. 

before;  and  who,  fearing  retaliation,  had  now  come 
to  beg  for  clemency. 

The  pipe  of  peace  was  smoked  with  the  chiefs, 
and  a  few  presents  were  given  them.  The  Indians 
took  their  departure,  and  the  boats  were  pushed  for- 
ward. In  a  short  time  the  tramp  of  horses  was 
heard,  and  two  Indians,  riding  up  to  the  bank,  hailed 
the  party,  and  demanded,  in  a  very  loud  tone  and 
peremptory  manner,  that  some  gifts,  such  as  had 
been  received  by  their  companions,  should  be  pre- 
sented to  them.  This  demand  Mr.  Hunt  refused 
to  comply  with;  and  he  ordered  the  Indians  to  be 
off,  declaring  that  he  would  treat  every  one  who 
came  to  him  in  so  insolent  a  way  as  his  enemy. 

This  refusal  and  threat  threw  the  Indians  into 
an  ungovernable  rage;  and,  after  a  few  passionate 
exclamations  and  maledictions,  they  rode  furiously 
off,  vowing  vengeance. 

Fearing  that  the  savages  would  execute  their 
threat,  and  bring  a  large  force  of  warriors  to  at- 
tack them,  it  was  determined  to  make  every  prep- 
aration for  a  conflict,  and  then  advance  cautiously 
in  battle  array.  The  men  were  armed,  and  the 
boats  proceeded  up  the  stream.  Mr.  Hunt,  with 
McClellan  and  a  few  trusty  companions,  took  the 
lead  in  the  large  boat,  and  rowed  along  one  side 
of  the  river,  while  the  remainder  of  the  party  fol- 
lowed in  the  canoes  on  the  other.  Their  object 
in  thus  separating  their  forces  was  to  be  able  to 
command  a  full  view  of  the  bluffs  and  distant  hills, 
which  could  not  be  seen  from  one  side  alone.  It 


ROBERT    McCLELLAN    ON   THE    PLAINS.  137 

was  agreed  that,  as  soon  as  Indians  were  discov- 
ered, a-  signal-gun  should  be  fired,  and  the  boats 
should  instantly  rejoin  each  other. 

While  pulling  around  the  lower  end  of  a  sand- 
bar, which  he  had  followed  up  for  .some,  distance 
until  his  boat  had  run  aground  and  he  was  obliged 
to  retrace  his  course  and  steer  into  deeper  water, 
Hunt  heard  the  alarm  sounded  from  one  of  the 
canoes ;  and,  looking  toward  the  shore,  saw  a  band 
of  armed  Indians  running  toward  him,  evidently  with 
the  purpose  of  cutting  off  his  escape,  and,  after 
massacring  him  and  the  rest  of  the  men  in  the 
boat,  securing  their  craft,  and  then  directing  its 
guns  against  the  remainder  of  the  party. 

The  men  in  the  other  three  boats,  seeing  the  dan- 
ger of  their  comrades,  strained  every  effort  to  inter- 
cept the  Indians  in  their  design.  But,  on  account 
of  the  delay  caused  Mr.  Hunt  by  the  sand-bar, 
they  had  got  some  distance  in  advance,  and  they 
knew  that  before  they  could  reach  the  opposite  bank 
the  Indians  would  have  gained  the  point,  and  rescue 
would  be  no  longer  possible. 

Meantime,  the  warriors  had  gathered  in  great 
force,  and  were  waiting  at  a  point  on  the  shore 
for  Hunt  to  come  opposite  them.  The  emergency 
seemed  to  be  a  fearful  one;  but,  just  as  Hunt  was 
about  to  give  the  signal  to  fire,  McClellan  checked 
him,  and  told  him  with  a  smile  that  there  was  noth- 
ing to  fear.  While  his  comrades  had  been  busily 
preparing  for  the  combat,  McClellan,  coolly  sur- 
veying the  Indians,  had  discovered  that,  though  they 


138  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

were  thronging  to  the  shore  in  great  numbers,  and 
were  all  completely  armed,  they  showed  no  desire 
to  fight,  and  evidently  did  not  think  of  an  encounter, 
but  stood  looking  at  the  whites  with  an  expression 
more  of.  friendly  expectation  than  of  hostile  design. 
The  boat  was  accordingly  rowed  toward  them ;  and, 
as  soon  as  it  came  opposite  the  point,  some  of  the 
Indians,  throwing  down  their  arms,  jumped  into  the 
river  and  swam  to  it,  seeking  to  shake  hands  with 
its  occupants ;  while  the  rest  ran  along  the  bank, 
and,  making  for  the  other  boats,  crowded  around 
them,  offering  the  same  friendly  token. 

These  Indians,  it  now  appeared,  belonged  to  the 
Arickara  nation,  one  of  those  with  which  the  Sioux 
were  at  war.  Far  from  opposing  the  whites,  they 
welcomed  them  with  joy,  knowing  that  they  could 
secure  from  them,  by  trading,  a  quantity  of  firearms 
and  ammunition.  The  voyagers  encamped  that 
night  as  the  guests  of  the  savages.  Provisions 
were  furnished,  partly  from  the  boats  and  partly 
from  the  stores  of  the  war-party,  the  evening  was 
devoted  to  feasting,  the  greatest  hilarity  prevailed; 
and,  following  the  festivities,  the  whites  were  enter- 
tained until  after  midnight  by  the  songs  and  dances 
of  the  warriors. 

The  hope  of  -carrying  on  a  successful  and  lu- 
crative business  among  the  tribes  was,  however, 
speedily  dissipated.  On  the  following  morning  an 
Indian  came  running  into  the  camp,  and  communi- 
cated the  very  unwelcome  information  that  a  boat 
was  coming  up  the  river.  This  Mr.  Hunt  and  his 


INDIAN  SCALP  DANCE. 


ROBERT    McCLELLAN    ON    THE    PLAINS.  141 

party  knew  to  be  one  of  the  crafts  of  their  rival, 
Manual  Lisa,  whose  company  they  had  previously 
declined,  and  whom  they  were  very  anxious,  particu- 
larly at  the  present  time,  to  avoid. 

The  boat,  on  its  arrival,  proved  to  contain  Mr. 
Lisa  and  a  detachment  of 'his  party.  He  immedi- 
ately sought  an  interview  with  Hunt,  who  received 
him  with  coldness  and  distrust.  During  the  inter- 
view, McClellan,  who  had  not  forgotten  the  outrage 
put  upon  him  several  years  before  by  Lisa,  stood 
regarding  his  enemy  with  very  black  looks,  and 
several  times  felt  impelled  to  carry,  his  former 
threat  into  execution ;  but,  reflecting  that  it  would 
not  be  wise  to  provoke,  on  account  -of  a  merely 
personal  grievance,  an  outbreak  in  which  both  bands 
must  inevitably  become  involved,  he  forebore  to 
abide  by  his  hostile  intention,  though  still  resolving 
to  do  his  utmost  to  injure  the  credit  and  prevent  the 
success  of  this  unscrupulous  knave. 

After  a  short  conference  between  the  leaders,  a 
compromise  was  effected.  It  was  agreed  that  the 
two  parties  should  proceed  together,  and  that  each 
should  have  equal  privileges  with  the  other.  They 
accordingly  remained  with  the  Arickara  warriors 
until  the  arrival  of  the  rest  of  Lisa's  boats,  when, 
taking  again  to  their  barks,  they  pushed  on  to  the 
villages  of  the  Arickara  tribe. 

The  ill-feeling  which  existed  between  the  leaders 
was  fully  shared  by  the  men  of  both  parties,  and 
several  disputes  arose.  Lisa  was  very  dogmatic 
and  domineering,  and,  on  one  occasion,  made  him- 


142  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

self  particularly  offensive.  He  attempted  to  seduce 
the  interpreter  of  Hunt's  party,  Pierre  Dorion, 
threatening  him  with  -prosecution  on  account  of  an 
old  whisky  debt,  and  offering  'him  inducements  to 
join  his  expedition.  This  attempt  naturally  aroused 
the  anger  of  Mr.  Hunt  and  his  companions.  McClel- 
lan,  in  particular,  was  highly  enraged ;  and,  taking 
up  his  gun,  he  addressed  a  few  emphatic  words  to 
Lisa,  swearing  that,  unless  he  conducted  himself 
more  decently,  he  would  blow  out  his  brains,  and 
offering  to  fight  him  in  single  combat  whenever  he 
felt  so  disposed.  The  difficulty  was  bridged  over, 
the  voyage  was  continued,  and,  soon  after,  the 
Arickara  town  was  reached,  where  both  parties 
landed  and  engaged  in  traffic  with  the  inhabit- 
ants. 

In  accordance  with  a  plan  which  had  been  formed, 
the  Hunt  party  here  abandoned  their  boats,  and 
made  preparations  to  perform  the  remainder  of  the 
journey  overland.  Their  first  care  was  to  secure 
horses  for  the  carriage  of  provisions,  baggage,  etc., 
and  for  the  convenience  of  the  men,  who,  if  obliged 
to  march  on  foot,  must  necessarily  have  had  a  slow 
and  painful  progress.  But,  though  all  the  animals 
had  been  purchased  which  could  be  obtained,  Mr. 
Hunt  found  that  the  number  was  insufficient,  and 
he  therefore  was  compelled  to  accept  a  proposition 
made  by  Lisa,  who  offered,  in  exchange  for  the 
large  boat  of  the  party  and  a  stipulated  quantity 
of  supplies,  to  furnish  a  certain  number  of  horses. 
In  discharge  of  his  agreement,  Lisa  set  out  with 


ROBERT    McCLELLAN    ON    THE    PLAINS.  143 

Mr.  Crooks  and  a  part  of  Hunt's  company  to  one 
of  his  posts,  about  one  hundred  and  fifly  miles  up 
the  river;  and,  after  an  absence  of  a  fortnight,  re- 
turned with  the  number  of  animals  specified. 

The  expedition  had  now  proceeded  one  thousand 
four  hundred  and  thirty  miles  from  the  mouth  of  the 
Missouri.  Their  journey  thus  far,  though  not  unat- 
tended with  trial  and  danger,  had  been  accomplished 
in  safety  and  with  comparative  comfort.  No  men 
had  been  lost,  and  the  enterprise,  on  the  whole,  had 
been  quite  successful.  The  most  venturesome  part 
of  the  undertaking  was  now  to  be  accomplished. 
An  unknown,  wild  and  hostile  region  of  country, 
one  thousand  miles  in  extent,  was  to  be  traversed. 
Fatigues  and  dangers,  such  as  always  attend  an 
expedition  through  an  unexplored  territory,  wer-e 
to  be  endured ;  and  though  the  men  who  composed 
the  party  were  all  brave  and  fearless,  they  looked 
forward  to  their  enterprise  as  one  which  was  pecu- 
liarly uninviting,  and  in  which  their  prospects  of 
success  were  at  least  doubtful. 

Provided  with  eighty-two  horses,  nearly  all  of 
which  were  heavily  loaded  with  Indian  goods,  bea- 
ver traps,  ammunition,  Indian  corn,  corn-meal,  and 
other  provisions  and  necessaries,  the  party,  number- 
ing altogether  sixty-two  men,  set  out,  on  the  i8th 
of  July,  1811,  on  their  long  journey.  Very  few  of 
the  men  were  mounted ;  for,  in  spite  of  all  his  efforts, 
Hunt  had  been  barely  able  to  procure  enough  horses 
to  serve  for  the  transportation  of  the  effects  of  his 

companions  and  stores. 
9 


144  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

Pursuing  a  north-east  course,  which  they  afterward 
changed  to  almost  a  north-west,  the  adventurers 
traveled  for  a  few  days  very  slowly,  owing  to  the 
sickness  of  a  number  of  the  men,  and  the  exceed- 
ingly rocky  nature  of  the  ground.  At  the  end  of 
five  days,  they  came  to  an  encampment  of  Chey- 
enne Indians,  and  were  received  by  them  in  a 
friendly  manner,  being  invited  to  rest  and  recruit. 
This  invitation  was  accepted.  The  travelers  halted 
for  about  two  weeks ;  and  then,  with  forty  additional 
horses,  which  they  had  obtained  by  purchase  from 
the  Indians,  they  went  forward  on  their  journey, 
with  spirits  raised  by  the  hospitable  reception  which 
they  had  met,  and  the  favorable  prospects  which 
they  now  fancied  were  opening  before  them. 
.  Penetrating  a  broad  prairie  region,  they  crossed  a 
number  of  small  streams,  and  following  the  course  of 
one  of  these,  reached,  in  about  a  week's  time,  the  foot 
of  the  formidable  Big  Horn  Mountains.  Here  they 
fell  in  with  a  band  of  the  Crow  Indians,  a  quarrel- 
some, malicious  -and  rascally  lot  of  fellows.  Although 
the  Indians  did  not  exceed  the  whites  in  number,  and 
had  no  chance  of  standing  against  them,  they  were 
very  aggressive  and  insulting,  and  it  was  all  that  the 
travelers  could  do,  consistently  with  proper  independ- 
ence and  self-respect,  to  avoid  a  sanguinary  termina- 
tion of  their  intercourse  with  them.  As  several  of 
their  horses  had  become  lame,  and  as  the  men  were 
in  no  plight  to  perform  the  journey  on  foot,  McClel- 
lan  proposed  that  they  should  effect  an  exchange 
with  the  Indians,  if  possible,  for  better-conditioned 


ROBERT    McCLELLAN    ON    THE    PLAINS.  145 

beasts.  This  was  agreed  to,  and  McClellan  was 
deputed  to  negotiate. 

The  Indians  at  first  refused  to  entertain  any  prop- 
osition, thinking  that,  as  the  animals  were  too  lame  to 
go  much  further,  the  travelers  would  soon  turn  them 
loose,  when  they  could  capture  and  appropriate  them 
without  being  obliged  to  give  an  equivalent.  McClel- 
lan offered  the  savages  some  ammunition  and  pro- 
visions in  addition,  but  they  still  refused  to  listen 
to  terms.  Finally,  guessing  their  motives  in  declin- 
ing so  advantageous  a  proposal,  McClellan  ordered 
that  the  whole  number  of  animals  which  he  wished 
them  to  take  should  be  led  out,  and  then,  calling  a 
party  of  men,  he  commanded  them  to  load  their  guns, 
and,  when  he  gave  the  word,  to  shoot  the  beasts  on 
the  spot.  This  stroke  of  policy  had  the  desired 
effect;  the  Indians  requested  him  to  desist,  and  then 
came  to  an  agreement,  giving  him  good  horses  in 
return  for  the  poor  ones,  and  for  the  supplies  which 
had  been  offered  in  addition. 

Leaving  these  unfriendly  and  ill-disposed  Indians, 
the  travelers  proceeded.  Their  course  now  lay 
through  a  rugged,  mountainous  country,  extremely  dif- 
ficult to  pass  through,  and,  in  places,  very  dangerous. 
Many  days  were  consumed  in  climbing  the  crags  and 
passing  down  the  precipitous  descents  of  this  dan- 
gerous range.  Finally  the  plains  of  the  Mad  River 
were  reached.  This  region  was  scarcely  less  inviting, 
for  they  found  the  country  through  which  the  stream 
flows  very  rough,  and  to  proceed  by  water  was  out 
of  the  question,  for  the  current  was  swift,  and  the 


146  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

river,  at  places,  was  scarcely  eighty  yards  in  width, 
forming  a  roaring  torrent. 

Tracing  the  course  of  the  Mad  River,  the  travelers 
reached,  in  a  few  days,  a  broad  stretch  of  compara- 
tively level  country  filled  with  great  herds  of  buffalo. 
Encamping,  they  divided  themselves  into  hunting 
parties,  and  spent  about  a  week  in  shooting  these 
animals  and  drying  their  meat,  hoping  to  provide 
themselves  with'  a  quantity  sufficient  for  the  re- 
mainder of  the  journey. 

After  breaking  up  their  encampment  they  jour- 
neyed slowly  and  with  difficulty.  It  was  now  nearly 
three  months  since  they  had  left  the  Arickaras ;  the 
fall  season  was  far  advanced,  and  the  weather  grew 
cold  and  very  inclement.  A  number  of  horses  had 
been  lost  on  the  way ;  the  remainder  were,  for  want 
of  forage,  half-starved ;  the  men,  obliged  now,  for  the 
most  part,  to  journey  afoot,  were  weak  and  discour- 
aged, and  the  prospect  was  gloomy  in  the  extreme. 
The  greater  part  of  the  distance  had  been  accom- 
plished, but  the  travelers  knew  that,  before  reaching 
their  destination,  the  navigable  waters  of  the  Columbia 
River,  they  had  a  region  of  country  to  traverse  which 
presented  far  greater  obstacles  to  progress,  and 
which  was  far  more  dangerous  than  any  they  had  yet 
passed  through. 

Foot-sore,  exhausted  and  despairing,  they  arrived, 
on  the  8th  of  October,  at  a  post  on  the  Mad  River, 
which  had  been  established  a  year  previous  by  a 
Mr.  Henry,  but  which  had  been  abandoned  by  him 
early  in  the  spring.  Taking  possession  of  the  de- 


ROCKY  MOUNTAIN  SCENEKY. 


ROBERT    McCLELLAN   ON    THE    PLAINS.  149 

serted  log-huts  which  formed  the  post,  they  remained 
at  this  place  for  about  ten  days,  and  then,  leaving 
their  horses  in  charge  of  two  Indians,  they  embarked 
in  fifteen  canoes  which  they  had  made,  and  started 
down  Snake  River,  a  stream  formed  by  the  junction 
of  Mad  River  and  Henry's  Fork,  hoping  to  accom- 
plish the  greater  part  of  the  remaining  distance  by 


navigation. 


For  a  distance  of  about  a  hundred  miles  their  voy- 
age was  made  with  fair  expedition.  But  soon,  to 
their  dismay,  they  found  that  the  river,  instead  of 
being  navigable  throughout  its  course,  formed  numer- 
ous rapids,  and  that  the  voyage  could  not  be  pros- 
ecuted without  imminent  danger.  But,  rendered  des- 
perate by  the  circumstances  in  which  they  were 
placed,  they  resolved  to  continue,  thinking  that  they 
would  before  long  pass  the  rapids  and  come  to  a 
point  where  the  navigation  would  be  safer  and  more 
convenient. 

Pursuing  their  resolution,  they  found  that  fortune 
was  still  against  them.  Discouragements  and  disas- 
ters followed  close  upon  one  another.  As  they  pro- 
ceeded the  rapids  became  more  frequent,  and  where 
these  were  absent,  the  current  was  so  swift  as  to 
render  it  extremely  perilous  to  follow  the  stream.  In 
shooting  one  of  the  rapids,  a  canoe  struck  a  rock 
and  was  wrecked,  one  of  the  men  being  drowned. 
Another  canoe,  which  they  sought  to  pass  down  by 
means  of  a  line,  was  swept  away  by  the  current,  and 
three  more  stuck  so  fast  among  the  rocks  that  they 
could  not  be  extricated.  Finally  a  whirling  vortex, 


I5O  THE   BACK-WOODSMEN. 

forming  a  fearful  abyss,  brought  the  voyagers  to  a 
stand,  and,  exploring  the  stream  beyond  this  for 
about  forty  miles,  in  the  hope  that  it  still  might  be 
found  navigable,  they  discovered  that,  instead  of  a 
river,  it  was  a  raging  torrent,  and  rushed  in  a  chan- 
nel, only  twenty  or  thirty  yards  wide,  through  preci- 
pices rising  hundreds  of  feet,  and  that  in  places  it 
descended  in  rapids  and  falls  ten  and  twenty  feet 
high. 

To  continue  the  voyage  was  impossible,  and,  since 
they  were  now  three  hundred  and  fifty  miles  from  Post 
Henry,  to  return  for  their  horses  was  out  of  the  ques- 
tion. The  only  alternative  was,  therefore,  to  strike 
through  the  wilderness  on  foot,  steering  a  course  for 
the  Columbia  River. 

The  provisions  of  the  travelers  were  by  this  time 
well-nigh  exhausted,  only  five  days'  allowance  re- 
maining of  the  large  supply  of  buffalo  meat  which 
had  been  dried  for  the  journey.  Starvation  was  im- 
minent, and,  as  it  was  reasonable  to  suppose  that  the 
men  would  have  greater  chances  of  subsisting  on  the 
product  of  the  wilderness  if  they  proceeded  in  small 
detachments  than  if  they  advanced  in  a  body,  it  was 
determined  that  the  wisest  step  which  could  be  taken 
was  a  division  of  the  forces. 

Mr.  Hunt,  accordingly,  selected  a  number  of  his 
bravest,  and  most  trustworthy  men,  and,  dividing  them 
into  parties  of  from  three  to  five  each,  placed  them  in 
charge  of  three  of  his  associates  in  the  expedition  — 
Robert  McClellan,  Ramsay  Crooks,  and  Donald 
McKenzie.  The  instructions  which  he  gave  were 


ROBERT    McCLELLAN    ON   THE    PLAINS.  151 

explicit.  If  they  found  that  they  could  do  no  better, 
they  were  to  march  direct  for  the  Columbia,  and 
make  the  best  of  their  way  to  Astoria.  If,  however, 
they  chanced  to  fall  in  with  friendly  Indians  within  a 
reasonable  distance,  they  were  to  secure  horses  and 
provisions,  and  return  to  the  starting  point,  where 
Hunt  agreed  to  wait  with  the  main  body  until  their 
arrival,  or  else  until,  from  protracted  absence,  all 
reasonable  hope  of  their  return  should  be  abandoned. 

The  party  of  which  Crooks  was  the  leader,  con- 
sisting of  five  men  besides  himself,  set  out  up  the 
river,  intending  to  retrace  the  course  which  had  been 
pursued,  and  return  to  Post  Henry,  where  they  were 
to  secure  the  horses  which  had  been  left  with  the  In- 
dians, obtain,  if  possible,  a  quantity  of  supplies,  and 
return  to  Caldron  Linn,  the  camp  (so-named  from  the 
raging  whirlpool  in  the  river  at  this  point),  with  all 
dispatch.  The  party,  headed  by  McKenzie,  consisted 
of  five  men,  and,  starting  due  north,  made  direct  for 
the  Columbia  River. 

Robert  McClellan  and  his  party,  composed  of 
three  brave  and  tried  men,  taking  with  them  a  small 
quantity  of  provisions,  followed  the  course  of  the 
Snake  River,  having  in  view  the  same  ultimate  ob- 
ject as  the  band  led  by  McKenzie.  They  journeyed 
for  several  days  over  rugged  and  barren  mountains, 
finding  no  trace  of  life  of  any  kind,  and  consequently 
failing  in  their  purpose  of  obtaining  relief  for  their 
companions.  Indeed,  so  fruitless  was  their  search 
that,  after  their  scanty  stock  of  supplies  had  become 
exhausted,  they  found  barely  enough  on  which  to 


152  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

subsist;  and,  weary  and  dejected,  they  began  to  real- 
ize that  starvation  and  death  in  the  wilderness  was 
their  final  destiny. 

Clambering  over  the  high  and  craggy  peaks  of  the 
mountains,  they  met,  some  days  after  their  departure, 
the  band  of  McKenzie.  This  was,  for  the  moment  at 
least,  a  fortunate  encounter,  for  McKenzie  and  his 
company  had  been  more  successful,  having  killed 
some  game;  and  they  were  able,  therefore,  to  afford 
temporary  relief  to  their  half-famished  comrades. 

By  the  unanimous  voice  of  the  men,  McClellan 
was  chosen  leader  of  the  party,  and,  under  his  com- 
mand, a  northerly  course  was  followed  up  Snake 
River.  The  heroism,  endurance  and  fortitude  pos- 
sessed by  McClellan  in  so  eminent  a  degree,  now 
served  a  very  useful  purpose,  for,  in  the  perilous 
journey  which  was  about  to  be  undertaken,  only  the 
highest  qualities  of  leadership  could  be  of  successful 
avail. 

As  the  party  advanced,  the  difficulties  of  the  enter- 
'prise  increased.  The  peaks  and  precipices  grew 
steeper  and  more  barren,  and  the  defiles  narrower  and 
more  dangerous.  Although  it  was  not  yet  the  mid- 
dle of  November,  the  adventurers  were  subjected, 
from  the  high  altitude  of  the  country,  to  the  ex- 
tremes of  cold,  and  snow-storms  were  frequent  and 
very  violent.  Fuel  was  scarce,  and  they  were  often 
obliged  to  sleep  at  night  in  the  snow,  or  take  shelter 
in  the  crevices  of  the  rocks,  without  a  fire. 

Every  one  has  read  of  the  strange  optical  illusion 
occasionally  experienced  by  sojourners  on  the  Afri- 


ROBERT    McCLELLAN    ON    THE    PLAINS.  153 

can  desert.  A  party  of  wayworn  travelers,  famished 
with  hunger  and  perishing  with  thirst,  wearily  jour- 
neying over  the  burning  sand,  suddenly  descry,  in  the 
distance,  a  beautiful  green  spot,  shaded  by  palms  and 
watered  by  flowing  streams.  They  rush  forward, 
overjoyed  with  the  thought  of  at  length  finding  relief 
from  their  sufferings.  As  they  advance,  they  find 
that  they  had  at  first  miscalculated  the  distance,  for 
the  inviting  spot  still  appears  far  ahead.  They  pro- 
ceed, hoping  to  reach  it,  but  their  hope  at  length 
turns  to  despair,  for  they  perceive  that  what  at  first 
seemed  to  be  an  oasis  is  only  an  illusion  of  the 
sight,  finally  disappearing  in  air  as  it  came. 

Disappointment  which  is  caused  by  the  sudden 
extinction  of  sanguine,  though  ill-founded,  hope  is 
indeed  great;  but  the  shock  is  soon  over,  and  resig- 
nation or  renewed  desire  succeeds.  Far  different, 
however,  is  the  result  when,  after  a  long-continued 
prospect  of  certain  fruition  and  an  unceasing  effort  to 
gain  that  which  is  constantly  within  sight,  though  never 
within  reach,  the  conviction  becomes  inevitable  that  suc- 
cess is  out  of  the  question,  and  that  the  future  offers 
nothing  but  an  unending  series  of  disappointments. 

Although  McClellan  and  his  party  never  departed 
far  from  the  river,  and  could  at  any  time  see  its  roar- 
ing waters,  they  suffered  from  nothing  more  than 
thirst.  So  acute  were  the  pangs  which  they  endured 


T54  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

ran  many  hundreds  of  feet  below  them,  and  could  not 
be  approached,  while  the  country  was  almost  wholly 
devoid  of  brooks  and  springs. 

The  torments  which  they  suffered  from  hunger  were 
equally  unendurable ;  and,  as  they  came  well-nigh 
perishing  from  thirst  in  a  region  where  water  flowed 
in  abundance,  so  also  they  were  left  to  hunger  for 
food  where  game  was  not  unfrequently  seen  in  great 
plenty.  On  several  occasions  they  observed  large 
herds  of  buffalo  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  river,  and 
the  distant  tramp  of  these  animals,  mingling  with  the 
thunder  of  the  torrent,  combined  to  awaken  in  their 
minds  a  sensation  of  the  profoundest  despair. 

Being  able  to  procure  no  game  of  any  kind,  and 
reduced  at  length  to  the  verge  of  starvation,  they  cut 
several  beaver-skins  which  they  had  with  them  into 
small  pieces.  These  were  broiled  before  the  fire, 
and  dealt  out  by  McClellan  in  scanty  allowances. 
Finally,  even  this  wretched  means  of  support  failed, 
and,  growing  feebler  and  feebler,  the  men,  after 
struggling  vainly  for  several  days  through  a  raging 
snow-storm,  during  which  time  they  tasted  no  food, 
lay  down  under  a  rock  to  await  the  death  which  all 
knew  to  be  speedily  approaching. 

Three  of  the  men  were  faint  and  emaciated,  ap- 
parently past  all  hope  of  recovery,  and  nearly  all  the 
rest  were  so  weak  as  to  be  scarcely  able  to  move  a 
limb.  McClellan,  whose  sturdy  frame  and  iron  con- 
stitution had  thus  far  borne  him  up,  was  the  only  one 
of  the  party  who-  was  at  all  suited  to  continue  the 
march,  and  even  he  was  in  a  most  pitiable  plight. 


ROBERT    McCLELLAN    ON    THE    PLAINS.  155 

Surrendering  themselves  to  the  fate  which  they 
regarded  as  inevitable,  the  men  lay  in  the  drifting 
snow  with  their  useless  weapons  scattered  around 
them.  McClellan  himself,  who  had  thus  far  kept 
up  his  spirits,  and  encouraged  his  comrades  to  per- 
severe in  the  hope  of  soon  finding  relief,  now  gave 
up  in  despair;  and,  offering  his  gun  to  one  of  his 
companions,  requested  him  to  aim  it  at  his  heart, 
and  mercifully  terminate  his  miserable  existence. 

While  the  unfortunate  travelers  lay  in  this  dis- 
tressing condition,  lamenting  that  they  had  ever 
been  born  into  a  world  in  which  trial  and  suffering 
seemed  to  be  their  only  portion,  McClellan,  acci- 
dently  looking  up,  saw,  through  the  driving  snow, 
an  immense  buffalo  sheltering  itself  under  a  rock 
on  the  side  of  a  hill.  He  instantly  seized  his  rifle, 
and,  carefully  examining  its  priming,  noiselessly  crept 
up  the  hill.  Making  a  circuitous  route,  he  arrived, 
in  a  few  moments,  without  being  seen,  within  shoot- 
ing distance.  He  leveled  his  gun,  while  his  compan- 
ions watched  him  from  below  in  breathless  sus- 
pense, knowing  that  the  issue  of  the  adventure  was 
to  them  a  matter  of  life  and  death. 

In  a  moment  the  report  of  the  rifle  was  heard, 
and  the  buffalo  fell  dead.  The  success  of  McClel- 
lan's  shot  was  greeted  with  a  shout  by  his  com- 
rades, who  arose,  and,  throwing  their  hats  in  the 
air,  and  embracing  each  other,  laughed  and  wept 
by  turns.  McClellan  lost  no  time  in  rolling  the 
carcass  of  the  animal  down  the  hill,  for  his  com- 
panions were  so  feeble  that  they  could  not  clamber 


156  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

over  the  rocks.  The  body  was  instantly  cut  to 
pieces,  and  the  men  were  about  to  satisfy  their 
appetites  by  devouring  the  flesh  raw,  when  McClel- 
lan  sternly  ordered  them  to  forebear;  and,  kindling 
a  fire,  melted  a  quantity  of  snow  in  an  iron  pot. 
He  then  deliberately  cut  the  flesh  from  the  bones ; 
and,  throwing  the  latter  into  the  water,  made  a 
thick  soup,  which  he  gave  to  his  companions  in 
small  quantities,  telling  them  that  starving  men 
must  exercise  a  control  over  their  appetites,  and 
informing  them,  besides,  that,  since  they  had  been 
reduced  to  such  straits,  they  must  now  take  care 
to  provide  for  the  future,  contenting  themselves 
with  scant  repasts. 

This  fortunate  supply  of  food  soon  restored  the 
spirits  and  strength  of  the  men;  and,  after  resting 
for  a  few  days,  they  once  more  took  up  their  march. 
By  exercising  the  greatest  self-denial,  frequently 
going  for  whole  days  without  eating  a  morsel,  they 
succeeded  in  making  their  stock  of  provisions  hold 
out  during  the  rest  of  their  passage  through  the 
mountains,  which  consumed  twenty-one  days.  At 
the  end  of  this  time,  they  reached  a  small  tributary 
of  the  Lewis  Fork  of  the  Columbia;  and,  following- 

o 

it  to  its  mouth,  obtained  two  canoes  from  a  friendly 
tribe  of  Indians,  and  embarked.  They  reached  As- 
toria early  in  January,  1812,  about  six  weeks  before 
the  arrival  of  Mr.  Hunt,  with  the  main  body,  and 
nearly  four  months  before  Mr.  Crooks. 

We  have  said  that,  besides  the  expedition  which 
had  been  sent  overland  under  the  command  of  Mr, 


ROBERT   McCLELLAN   ON   THE    PLAINS.  157 

4 

Hunt,  another  one  had  been  fitted  up  under  the 
auspices  of  the  Company,  and  dispatched  by  sea. 
This  had  been  given  in  charge  to  Captain  Thorn, 
of  the  vessel  Tonquin.  The  voyage  to  the  Pacific 
coast  was  made  in  safety ;  but,  before  proceeding  to 
Astoria,  Captain  Thorn  determined  to  cruise  along 
the  shore,  and  trade  with  the  natives.  While  coast- 
ing north  of  the  Columbia  River,  he  was  induced  by 
a  tribe  of  treacherous  Indians  to  enter  the  mouth 
of  a  small  stream ;  and  here,  as  the  water  was  very 
shallow,  the  vessel  ran  aground.  The  Indians  then 
surrounded  it  in  'boats;  and,  attacking  it  in  great 
force,  soon  succeeded  in  boarding  it,  and  overpower- 
ing the  crew;  and  so  complete  was  their  success, 
that  not  one  man  escaped  to  tell  the  story  of  the 
massacre. 

On  his  arrival  at  Astoria,  about  the  middle  of 
February,  1812,  Mr.  Hunt,  learning  of  the  disaster 
which  had  befallen  Captain  Thorn  and  his  men,  re- 
solved to  send  an  expedition  across  the  country 
with  dispatches  to  John  Jacob  Astor,  at  New  York, 
informing  him  of  the  state  of  affairs. 

Accordingly,  on  the  22d  of  March,  1812,  a  party, 
Jmder  the  command  of  Mr.  John  Reed,  the  clerk  of 
the  company,  set  out  from  Astoria  on  this  important 
mission.  Although  McClellan  was  not  requested  to 
join  it,  since  he  was  one  of  the  partners  in  the 
enterprise,  and  since  his  services  were  needed 
more  at  the  settlement,  he  resolved  to  accompany  it. 
This  resolution  was  due  to  a  misunderstanding  which 
had  arisen  between  himself  and  Hunt.  Discontented 


158  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

with  the  comparative  insignificance  of  his  interest 
in  the  profits  of  the  expedition,  he  had  applied  for 
a  larger  number  of  shares ;  but  had  been  refused,  on 
the  very  good  ground  that  he  had  already  purchased 
his  quota,  and  could  not  reasonably  expect  an  increase. 
McClellan,  rash  and  self-willed,  upon  this  refusal,  in- 
considerately severed  his  connection  with  the  com- 
pany, and  united  with  Reed's  party. 

That  a  man  in  his  sober  senses,  just  after  having 
escaped,  with  so  much  difficulty,  a  death  in  the  wil- 
derness, could,  from  so  trivial  a  cause,  voluntarily  re- 
turn to  an  adventurous  life,  seems  almost  incredible. 
But  McClellan  never  looked  at  consequences;  and, 
in  matters  which  concerned  his  personal  welfare,  was 
always  controlled  by  a  headstrong  will,  and  acted  from 
first  impulses. 

The  party,  composed  of  three  separate  companies, 
one  of  which  was  to  make  the  journey  to  the  East, 
and  the  other  two  to  perform  certain  missions  of  a 
comparatively  easy  character,  and  then  to  return,  num- 
bered seventeen  men.  They  embarked  in  canoes, 
and  rowed  up  the  Columbia  River  until  they  reached 
its  falls,  where  they  disembarked,  and  proceeded  to 
carry  their  boats  and  goods  by  land  until  they  should 
reach  a  point  where  it  would  be  safe  to  again  take 
the  river. 

While  preparing  to  make  this  transfer,  they  were 
suddenly  surrounded  by  a  war-party  of  about  four 
hundred  Indians.  Fearing  attack,  they  assumed  a 
defensive  stand ;  but  the  Indians,  after  pausing  a 
moment  to  deliberate,  instead  of  assailing  them, 


ROBERT    McCLELLAN    ON    THE    PLAINS.  159 

came  forward  and  assured  them  of  their  amicable  in- 
tentions. 

The  designs  of  the  savages  were  soon  discovered ; 
for,  making  very  free  of  their  friendly  professions,  they 
offered  to  carry  the  canoes,  with  the  merchandise  and 
supplies  of  the  party,  to  the  head  of  the  falls.  Rightly 
guessing  that  the  object  of  the  Indians,  in  making  this 
proposal,  was  to  have  an  opportunity  to  plunder,  the 
offer  was  declined;  but,  fearing  lest  they  should  be 
put  out  of  humor,  Reed  allowed  them  to  carry  the 
canoes,  with  the  promise  that,  if  they  behaved  them- 
selves, they  should  be  permitted  to  transfer  the  goods 
the  next  morning. 

About  the  middle  of  the  night,  McClellan,  deter- 
mined to  thwart  the  designs  of  the  thievish  Indians, 
arose,  and,  awaking  the.  men,  proposed  that  they 
should  take  advantage  of  the  night,  and  transfer 
their  stores  at  once.  As  the  moon  was  shining,  they 
could  easily  see  to  make  their  way;  and,  as  most  of 
the  Indians  had  gone  to  the  other  side,  and  had  set 
no  watch,  there  was  little  fear  of  discovery. 

They  would  probably  have  succeeded  in  their  de- 
sign, and  been  on  their  way  before  their  absence  was 
discovered  by  the  Indians,  had  not  the  day  dawned 
before  the  transportation  was  effected.  McClellan, 
who,  with  Mr.  Reed,  guarded  the  rear,  was  about  to 
set  out  with  the  last  loads,  when  an  Indian  discovered 
him,  and  sounded  the  alarm.  In  an  instant  several 
canoes,  containing  a  hundred  or  more  savages,  pushed 
out  from  the  opposite  shore ;  and  crossing,  leaped  on 
the  river  bank,  and  rushed  forward  to  secure  the  goods. 


l6o  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

McClellan  raised  his  rifle,  and  coolly  stood  guard,  when 
one  of  the  Indians  made  a  thrust  at  him  with  his  knife, 
attempting,  at  the  same  time,  to  hood-wink  him  with  a 
buffalo  robe.  But,  springing  back,  McClellan  avoided 
both  the  blow  and  the  motion ;  and,  leveling  his  gun, 
shot  him  dead.  Instantly  wheeling,  he  discharged  one 
of  his  pistols  at  an  Indian  who  was  about  to  shoot  at 
him ;  and  his  second  enemy  also  fell  to  the  ground. 

By  this  time  the  rest  of  the  party  had  come  up. 
Their  arrival  was  very  opportune  ;  for,  though  McClel- 
lan had  thus  far  stood  his  ground,  he  fought  against 
great  odds,  and  would  soon  have  been  overpowered. 
His  companion,  John  Reed,  had  been  knocked  sense- 
less by  a  war-club  in  the  hands  of  a  powerful  Indian, 
who  now  stood  over  him,  with  his  tomahawk  raised, 
ready  to  bury  it  in  his  head.  Seeing  the  danger  of 
their  leader,  the  men  rushed  forward,  and  one  of  them, 
leveling  his  rifle,  fired  just  at  the  critical  moment,  fell- 
ing the  savage,  and  saving  the  life  of  his  intended 
victim. 

Following  up  their  advantage,  the  men  formed ;  and, 
with  a  shout,  charged  the  Indians,  who,  thrown  into 
confusion  by  the  vigor  of  the  attack,  fled  precipi- 
tately. 

Mr.  Reed  was  now  raised  from  the  ground,  and  his 
wounds,  which  were  very  severe,  were  dressed.  The 
voyage  was  resumed  ;  but,  before  they  had  proceeded 
far,  it  was  found  that,  during  the  skirmish  with  the 
Indians,  the  tin  case  in  which  Reed  carried  the  dis- 
patches to  Mr.  Astor  had  been  lost.  The  object  of 
the  expedition  was,  therefore,  frustrated;  and,  after 


ROBERT    McCLELLAN    ON    THE    PLAINS.  l6l 

proceeding  to  the  post  of  Oakinagin,  some  distance 
further  on,  to  which  they  had  received  instructions  to 
carry  a  quantity  of  supplies,  they  turned  round  and 
retraced  their  course,  arriving  safely,  in  a  few  days,  at 
Astoria. 

As  it  was  highly  important  that  Mr.  Astor  should 
be  informed  of  the  result  of  the  expedition  sent  out 
by  him,  Mr.  Hunt,  who  acted  as  his  representative, 
determined  to  send  a  second  party  with  dispatches. 
He  accordingly  chose  Mr.  Robert  Stuart, — a  man  of 
signal  courage  and  daring, — to  perform  the  mission ; 
and,  selecting  four  brave  and  tried  men  to  accompany 
him,  dispatched  the  fiarty,  on  the  25th  of  June,  1812, 
on  their  long  and  perilous  journey. 

Still  adhering  to  his  resolution  to  return  home, 
Robert  McClellan  signified  his  desire  to  join  the  ex- 
pedition. His  request  was  reluctantly  granted;  and, 
with  his  old  comrade  Ramsay  Crooks,  who  also  had 
become  dissatisfied  with  Hunt's  management,  he 
bade  adieu  to  his  friends  at  Astoria,  and  embarked 
in  the  enterprise. 

Ascending  the  Columbia  River,  they  arrived,  in 
about  a  month,  at  the  mouth  of  the  Walla- Walla; 
and  here  they  left  their  canoes,  purchased  horses, 
and  set  out  through  the  wilderness  in  the  direction 
of  the  Snake  River,  intending  to  visit  the  camp  at 
Caldron  Linn,  and  secure  a  quantity  of  merchandise 
and  baggage  which  had  been  secreted  among  the 
rocks  by  Mr.  Hunt  the  year  before. 

Before  reaching  the  rough  and  barren  mountains, 

they  had  to  pass  through  a  parched  and  sandy  region, 
10 


1 62  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

totally  devoid  of  vegetation,  and  unwatered  by  streams 
of  any  kind.  The  sun  shone  with  a  burning  heat ; 
their  march  was  slow,  and,  before  they  had  traversed 
half  of  the  distance,  their  supply  of  water  became 
exhausted.  Far  in  the  distance  rose  the  peaks  of  the 
mountains ;  and  the  travelers  knew  that  their  trials, 
though  already  great,  had  in  reality  but  just  begun. 
But,  though  they  suffered  intensely,  they  still  pushed 
forward  with  alacrity,  determined  to  own  no  such 
word  as  failure. 

After  journeying  for  twenty-two  days,  they  reached 
in  safety,  though  much  exhausted,  the  banks  of  the 
Snake  River.  By  following  the  route  across  the  des- 
ert, they  found  that  they  had  gained  one  considerable 
advantage.  The  distance  had  been  greatly  lessened, 
and  some  of  the  most  formidable  peaks  of  the  mount- 
ains had  been  avoided ;  and,  being  familiar  with  the 
nature  of  the  country  bordering  the  river,  which  they 
struck  at  a  point  where  it  was  comparatively  easy  to 
follow,  they  were  enabled  to  proceed  with  greater 
directness,  and  choose  their  ground  at  once  without 
stopping  to  make  explorations. 

Caldron  Linn  was  reached  on  the  2Qth  of  August. 
To  their  disappointment,  they  found  that  most  of  the 
valuable  merchandise,  stores,  and  ammunition,  which 
had  been  deposited  by  Mr.  Hunt,  had  been  found  by 
the  Indians  and  carried  off.  They  secured  the  re- 
mainder, which  consisted  of  a  quantity  of  ammuni- 
tion, a  few  dry-goods,  and  a  number  of  beaver- traps, 
and  then  resumed  their  march. 

It  will  be  recollected  that  Mr.  Hunt  and  his  party 


ROBERT    McCLELLAN    ON    THE    PLAINS.  163 

had  made  the  journey  down  the  Snake  River,  as  far 
as  the  camp  at  Caldron  Linn,  in  canoes.  Remember- 
ing the  hardships  which  had  attended  that  dangerous 
passage,  the  travelers  determined  to  perform  the 
return  journey  by  land;  and,  hoping  to  make  better 
progress,  instead  of  following  the  course  of  the  stream, 
they  left  its  banks,  and  struck  out  through  the  mount- 
ains in  the  direction  of  Bear  River. 

Their  supplies  had  by  this  time  given  entirely  out; 
the  country  afforded  no  game,  and  they  were  again 
reduced  to  the  verge  of  starvation.  Their  only  means 
of  subsistence  was  by  angling  for  fish  in  the  streams, 
and  this  afforded  them  but  a  precarious  existence.  So 
great  were  their  necessities,  that  they  were  obliged  to 
scrape  the  fur  off  of  some  of  the  beaver,  buffalo,  and 
bear  skins  that  they  had  in  their  packs  and  devour 
the  hides.  Occasionally  they  came  across  deserted 
Indian  lodges,  and  in  these  they  would  sometimes 
find  dogs  and  small  quantities  of  dried  salmon,  which 
they  ate  eagerly.  Finally,  after  wandering  aimlessly 
for  many  days,  they  reached  a  stream  which  they  sup- 
posed to  be  Bear  River;  and,  following  it  and  its 
branches,  they  came,  in  the  course  of  a  few  days,  to 
a  country  which  was  more  open,  though  still  very 
barren  and  uninviting. 

To  their  great  disgust  and  terror,  the  travelers  now 
found  that  they  had  arrived  in  the  region  occupied  by 
the  hostile  and  rascally  Crow  Indians.  One  evening 
on  their  return  to  their  camp  from  a  fishing  excursion, 
they  perceived  two  or  three  Indians  (whom  McClellan 
easily  recognized  as  belonging  to  the  Crow  tribe), 


164  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

lurking  in  the  neighborhood,  and  the  following  day 
they  received  a  visit  from  a  large  band  of  these  ma- 
licious fellows. 

Remembering  the  unpleasant  experience  which 
they  had  had  among  the  Crows  on  their  march  the 
year  before,  the  travelers  determined  to  maintain 
a  strict  watch  and  keep  constantly  on  their  guard. 
They  succeeded  in  impressing  the  Indians  with  an 
idea  of  their  strength,  and  thus  preserving  themselves 
from  attack,  for  these  Indians  were  as  cowardly  as 
they  were  insolent.  In  spite,  however,  of  the  watch- 
fulness of  the  travelers  the  thievish  Crows  got  the 
better  of  them.  They  succeeded  in  pilfering  a  num- 
ber of  small  articles  from  the  baggage,  and  finally, 
after  following  in  the  rear  of  the  band  for  six  days, 
entered  the  camp  one  night  and  stole  and  drove  off 
all  of  the  horses. 

Even  with  the  best  conveniences  for  traveling,  their 
march  must  now  necessarily  have  been  attended  with 
difficulty  and  privation.  The  distance  to  be  accom- 
plished was  two  thousand  miles ;  the  nature  of  the 
country  was  entirely  unknown  to  them,  and,  since 
they  had  no  stores,  existence  must  have  been 
precarious  in  the  extreme.  But  the  dangers  of  the 
journey,  now  that  they  had  lost  their  horses,  were 
increased  tenfold.  Obliged  to  travel  on  foot,  their 
progress  could  not  but  be  wretchedly  slow ;  and,  as 
they  had  no  means  of  transporting  provisions  in 
quantity,  they  knew  they  must  depend  for  their  sup> 
port  upon  the  game  which  they  should  chance  to  kill 
from  day  to  day.  Even  should  they  have  a  success- 


ROBERT  McCLELLAN  ON  THE  PLAINS.  165 

ful  hunt  the  prospects  were  that  it  would  avail  them 
only  for  the  time  being,  for  they  were  already  bur- 
dened with  ammunition  and  blankets,  and  could  not 
carry  much  in  addition. 

Keeping  up  their  spirits  as  bravely  as  possible 
under  the  circumstances,  the  men  went  about  to  pre- 
pare for  their  long  tramp.  Selecting  all  that  they 
needed  from  their  packs,  they  carefully  deposited  the 
rest  in  caches,  or  holes  dug  in  the  ground,  for  the 
concealment  of  goods,  and  then  shouldered  their 
knapsacks.  But,  just  as  they  were  about  to  start, 
one  of  the  men,  returning  from  examining  the  traps 
which  had  been  set  the  night  before  for  beavers,  re- 
ported that  he  had  seen  two  Indians  watching  their 
movements  from  behind  a  rock,  evidently  hoping  to 
discover  where  they  were  hiding  their  merchandise. 
At  this  information  the  goods  were  instantly  un- 
earthed, thrown  in  a  pile,  and  burned,  for  the  travelers, 
bent  on  revenge  of  some  kind,  determined  that,  though 
the  knavish  Crows  had  gained  the  advantage  of  them 
in  the  matter  of  the  horses,  they  should  be  disappointed 
in  their  scheme  of  securing  the  surplus  baggage. 

Pursuing  their  march,  they  journeyed  for  about  ten 
days  with  fair  dispatch  and  comparative  comfort. 
They  had  the  good  fortune  to  meet  with  success  in 
hunting,  for  they  managed  to  kill  an  elk  or  two  and 
trap  a  beaver.  Reaching  the  Mad  River,  they  made 
part  of  the  journey  on  rafts,  and,  leaving  the  stream 
on  the  29th  of  September,  they  again  took  their  way 
through  the  wilderness,  skirting  the  southern  slopes 
of  the  mountains. 


1 66  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

Once  more  good  fortune  changed  to  ill.  Before 
they  had  gone  far  they  found  that  they  were  on  the 
borders  of  the  country  occupied  by  the  Blackfeet  In- 
dians, a  tribe  scarcely  less  dangerous  than  the  Crows. 
A  halt  was  called  forthwith,  a  consultation  was  held, 
and  after  some  discussion,  it  was  decided,  in  spite  of 
the  remonstrances  of  McClellan,  that  instead  of  going 
round  the  mountains,  thus  placing  themselves  in 
danger  of  discovery  by  straggling  parties  of  Indians, 
they  should  take  the  route  directly  over  and  across 
them. 

Thoroughly  disgusted  at  what  he  regarded  the 
pusillanimity  of  the  men,  who  chose  to  climb  the 
steep  and  rough  peaks  of  the  mountains  rather  than 
go  fearlessly  forward,  McClellan  very  sullenly  accom- 
panied his  comrades.  The  ascent  of  the  mountains 
was  begun  at  once,  and,  to  show  their  spirit  and 
ardor,  the  travelers,  most  of  whom  were  young  in 
years,  not  more  than  half  the  age  of  McClellan,  each 
mounted  with  alacrity,  striving  who  should  reach  the 
top  first.  McClellan,  who  was  in  no  mood  for  this 
friendly  competition,  soon  fell  behind.  His  spirit  was 
pne  which  could  brook  no  rivalry,  and,  irritated  be- 
yond measure,  he  suddenly  stopped  short,  and,  jerk- 
ing the  beaver  traps,  which  had  been  given  him  to 
carry,  down  the  slope,  he  swore  that  he  would  go  no 
further  with  such  craven  cowards.  Mr.  Stuart  expos- 
tulated with  him,  and,  handing  him  a  pack  of  dried 
meat  in  place  of  his  former  burden,  ordered  him  to  go 
forward.  McClellan  disdainfully  threw  this  on  the 
ground,  saying,  derisively,  that  whoever  needed  it 


ROBERT    McCLELLAN   ON   THE    PLAINS.  167 

might  take  it  up,  but  he,  for  his  part,  would  depend 
for  his  support  upon  his  rifle.  His  temper  was  now 
thoroughly  aroused,  and,  with  a  few  contemptuous 
words,  he  bade  adieu,  descended  the  mountain,  and 
set  off  in  the  direction  which  he  had  originally  pro- 
posed. 

His  comrades  stood  looking  after  him  a  few  mo- 
ments with  emotions  of  admiration  and  wonder,  not 
unmingled  with  a  sense  of  deep  mortification.  Their 
first  impulse  was  to  follow,  overtake,  and  accompany 
him,  but  prudential  considerations  prevailed;  and, 
knowing  that  it  was  useless  to  attempt  to  persuade 
him  to  recall  his  resolution,  they  finally  resumed  the 
ascent  of  the  mountain.  Reaching  the  top  they 
again  turned  round,  and  saw  McClellan  still  pursuing 
his  solitary  journey,  apparently  unmindful  of  any  thing 
but  placing  a  distance  between  himself  and  the  cow- 
ardly fellows  who  preferred  climbing  rocks  to  fight- 
ing Indians.  A  moment  after  they  began  the  descent 
of  the  opposite  side,  and  lost  sight  forever,  as  they 
thought,  of  the  brave  man  who  had  so  long  been  their 
comrade  and  fellow-sufferer. 

For  eleven  days  the  adventurers  continued  their 
weary  progress  through  the  mountains.  Fearful 
lest  the  noise  of  their  guns  should  inform  their  ene- 
mies of  their  presence,  they  did  not  venture  to  shoot 
game,  but  depended  for  food  on  their  beaver-trap. 
Soon  they  reached  a  country  wholly  devoid  of  animal 
life  of  any  kind.  Not  even  a  wolf  was  to  be  seen. 
Water  and  fuel  were  equally  scarce,  and  the  whole 
aspect  was  extremely  discouraging  and  gloomy.  The 


1 68  THE   BACK-WOODSMEN. 

moccasins  of  the  travelers  were  worn  out,  and  they 
were  obliged  to  make  their  way  over  the  sharp  rocks 
in  their  bare  feet,  which  were  swollen  with  bruises 
and  bleeding  with  cruel  gashes.  The  painful  experi- 
ence of  the  previous  fall  and  winter  was  now  suffered 
over  again :  hunger  and  thirst,  and  the  acutest  bodily 
anguish,  were  once  more  endured,  and  once  again 
death  seemed  to  be  the  only  relief  which  the  future 
could  offer. 

Suffering  and  distress  had,  by  this  time,  overcome 
the  dread  of  the  Blackfeet,  and  the  wanderers  looked 
anxiously  for  traces  of  Indians,  believing  that  even 
hostile  barbarians  could  not  treat  them  more  inhos- 
pitably than  the  unfriendly  wilderness.  One  evening, 
having  halted  for  the  night,  they  perceived  a  cloud 
of  smoke  at  a  distance,  rising,  evidently,  from  some 
camp-fire,  and,  in  hopes  of  finding  Indians  who  would 
give  them  relief,  one  of  the  party  was  dispatched  to 
the  supposed  encampment  to  negotiate. 

The  next  morning,  as  he  did  not  return,  they  went 
forward.  After  proceeding  for  some  distance,  they 
perceived  a  man  approaching,  and,  on  coming  nearer, 
they  found  him  to  be  their  messenger  of  the  night 
before.  In  answer  to  the  eager  inquiries  of  his  com- 
rades, he  replied  that  he  indeed  had  news,  although 
what  he  had  to  communicate  would  scarcely  reassure 
them.  The  smoke,  he  said,  had  risen  from  the  camp- 
fire,  not  of  the  Indians,  but  of  their  late  companion, 
McClellan,  who,  after  wandering  for  twelve  days, 
almost  without  a  morsel  of  food,  had,  at  length,  given 
up  in  despair  and  lain  down  to  die. 


ROBERT  McCLELLAN  ON  THE  PLAINS.  169 

This  intelligence  for  awhile  drove  all  other  thoughts 
from  their  minds,,  and  they  determined  to  go  quickly 
to  the  place  where  their  unfortunate  friend  lay,  min- 
ister, if  possible,  to  his  necessities,  and  encourage 
him  to  once  more  take  up  his  journey.  They  knew, 
two  or  three  days  before  this,  that  they  were  on  his 
trace,  having  found  the  embers  of  camp-fires  which  they 
judged  to  have  been  his,  since  they  perceived  tracks 
which  were  undoubtedly  the  prints  of  his  feet;  and 
since,  on  one  occasion,  they  found  the  remains  of  a 
miserable  wolf,  which  could  not  have  been  slain  by 
Indians,  as  it  had  evidently  provided  some  starving 
man  with  a  supper. 

Reaching  the  place  where  McClellan  lay,  they 
found  him  stretched  on  the  ground,  his  face  hollow 
and  deathly  pale,  and  his  once  sturdy  frame  reduced 
almost  to  skin  and  bones.  They  spoke  to  him,  and 
lifting  his  head,  he  feebly  returned  the  salutation,  say- 
ing that  he  was  rejoiced  to  see  them,  and  begging 
for  food.  He  was  told  that  they  too,  were  starving, 
and  that  to  relieve  him  was,  therefore,  out  of  the 
question  at  present ;  but  they  urged  him  to  rise  and 
go  with  them,  in  order  that  all  might  live  or  die 
together. 

"  It  is  of  no  use,"  said  McClellan,  shaking  his 
head ;  "  we  are  all  doomed  to  perish,  and  it  is  better 
that  we  should  meet  our  fate  here  than  that  we 
should  drop  down,  one  by  one,  on  the  desert." 

The  truth  of  this  melancholy  answer  was  felt  by 
all,  but  his  companions  still  spoke  in  a  hopeful  strain, 
and,  lifting  him  from  the  ground,  led  him  forward  a 


170  THE   BACK-WOODSMEN. 

few  steps.  Once  on  his  feet,  he  became  more  reso- 
lute, and  finally  said,  with  determination,  that  they 
had  but  to  lead  and  he  would  follow.  Cheers  and 
other  demonstrations  of  enthusiasm  greeted  this  char- 
acteristic reply.  His  comrades  hailed  him  as  a  hero, 
and,  sharing  his  rifle,  knapsack,  and  other  effects 
among  them,  they  aided  him  forward,  swearing  that 
he  should  yet  live  to  be,  as  he  had  been  so  many 
times  before,  their  preserver. 

This  day  they  traveled  seventeen  miles  over  a  level, 
sandy  plain  without  tasting  any  food.  Encamping, 
they  perceived,  at  a  distance,  a  herd  of  antelope,  and 
McClellan,  seizing  his  rifle,  ordered  all  the  men  who 
were  able,  to  follow  him.  His  will,  however,  was 
stronger  than  his  capacity,  for,  after  running  a  few 
yards,  he  fell  fainting  to  the  ground.  Two  or  three 
of  his  companions,  who  were  in  better  case,  advanced, 
hoping  to  get  a  shot  at  the  animals ;  but,  just  as  they 
arrived  within  range,  the  whole  herd  took  sudden 
flight  and  ran  off  like  the  wind. 

This  evening  the  party  went  to  bed  supperless. 
None  of  them  had  satisfied  their  hunger  for  forty- 
eight  hours,  and  McClellan  had  eaten  nothing,  except 
the  vile  flesh  of  the  wolf  which  he  had  killed,  for 
many  days.  Rendered  savage  by  want,  one  of  the 
men,  a  Canadian,  approached  Mr.  Stuart,  the  leader 
of  the  party,  and,  with  a  wild  expression  and  a  de- 
spairing voice,  proposed  that,  as  it  was  vain  to  hope 
for  rescue,  and  as  the  only  alternative  was  the  cer- 
tain death  of  the  whole  party,  one  man  should  be 
killed  in  order  that  the  rest  might  live.  He  expressed 


ROBERT  McCLELLAN  ON  THE  PLAINS. 
I 

a  willingness  to  cast  lots  in  order  to  fix  upon  the  one 
who  should  be  sacrificed,  whispering  to  Mr.  Stuart 
that  he,  as  the  leader  of  the  expedition,  should  be 
exempted. 

In  reply  to  this  demand,  Stuart  seized  his  rifle,  and, 
pointing  it  at  the  Canadian,  commanded  him  to  be 
silent,  threatening  to  blow  out  his  brains  in  case  he 
ever  ventured  to  renew  so  shocking  a  proposition. 
The  request  was  not  repeated,  but,  had  it  been,  to 
the  credit  of  the  rest  of  the  party  be  it  said,  it  would 
not,  for  a  moment,  have  been  seriously  entertained, 
since  no  extremity  could  have  justified,  in  their  sight, 
recourse  to  means  so  barbarous,  and  so  unworthy  of 
men  truly  brave. 

The  next  day,  fortune,  so  long  adverse,  once  more 
became  favorable.  An  old  run-down  buffalo  bull  was 
killed  by  one  of  the  party,  and  thus  the  terrible  wants 
of  the  travelers  were  for  a  time  alleviated. 

The  meat  of  the  buffalo  lasted  them  for  several 
days.  By  the  rarest  good  fortune,  just  as  they  had 
exhausted  this  supply,  they  arrived  at  the  camp  of  a 
party  of  Snake  Indians,  a  poor,  though  very  hospita- 
ble and  friendly  tribe.  Here  they  were  given  plenty 
to  eat,  and,  after  they  had  rested  for  a  few  days,  they 
were  sent  on  their  way  with  a  store  of  buffalo  meat 
and  other  provisions.  They  also  received  a  quantity 
of  thick  leather  for  moccasins,  which  they  lost  no  time 
in  cutting  up  and  making  serviceable,  for  their  feet 
were  sorely  blistered.  Another  prize  which  they  ob- 
tained from  the  friendly  Snakes  was  an  old  horse, 
which  they  put  to  use,  loading  it  with  their  supplies. 


172  THE  BACK-WOODSMEN. 

Setting  out  once  more,  the  travelers  made  all 
speed.  It  was  now  the  latter  part  of  October,  snow 
commenced  to  fall,  and  the  weather  grew  very  chill. 
But,  after  the  severe  privations  which  they  had  so  re- 
cently suffered,  they  thought  nothing  of  the  ills  of 
their  present  lot,  but  went  along  in  high  spirits, 
laughing  and  shouting  as  they  trudged  through  the 
snow. 

As  they  proceeded,  they  gradually  came  to  a  coun- 
try more  inviting  and  better  stocked  with  game. 
Although  the  bodies  of  the  men  had  been  severely 
shattered  by  fatigue  and  hunger,  it  did  not  take  long 
to  recruit.  McClellan  regained  his  strength  and 
vigor  in  an  astonishingly  short  time,  and  was  soon 
able  to  hunt  with  the  rest. 

On  the  second  day  of  November  the  party  en- 
camped at  a  beautiful  spot  on  the  Platte  River;  and, 
as  the  surrounding  country  abounded  in  game,  they 
determined  to  erect  a  hut  at  this  place  and  remain 
through  the  winter.  Previous  to  carrying  this  pur- 
pose into  execution,  they  set  about  to  lay  in  provis- 
ions. They  met  with  the  most  uncommon  success. 
In  two  days'  hunt  they  killed  thirty-two  buffaloes, 
and,  shortly  after,  shot  fifteen  more. 

A  comfortable  cabin  was  built,  and  the  travelers, 
well-provided  with  every  thing  necessary  for  the  en- 
joyment of  their  new  life,  occupied  their  quarters  for 
some  weeks  without  any  thing  occurring  to  disturb 
their  repose. 

One  morning,  however,  they  were  rudely  aroused 
from  their  dreams  of  security  and  comfort  by  a  terrible 


ROBERT    McCLELLAN    ON    THE    PLAINS.  175 

yell,  repeated  several  times,  and,  looking  through  the 
cracks  between  the  logs  of  their  habitation,  they  saw, 
to  their  great  alarm,  a  number  of  Indian  warriors, 
hideously  painted  and  completely  armed,  emerging 
from  behind  trees  and  bushes,  and  approaching  the 
hut,  evidently  with  hostile  intent. 

The  men  sprang  for  their  weapons,  and,  quickly 
loading  their  rifles,  stood  silently  awaiting  the  or- 
ders of  their  leader.  McClellan,  who  was  now  in 
his  element,  was  not  slow  to  grasp  the  situation, 
and,  while  he  put  together  his  rifle,  which  he  had 
taken  to  pieces  the  evening  before,  proposed  that  the 
mud  should  be  knocked  out  from  between  the  logs,  so 
as  to  afford  a  view  of  the  enemy  and  enable  the  men 
to  fire  with  precision. 

Although  it  was  not  thought  that  peaceable  con- 
clusions could  be  reached,  it  was  decided  to  hold  a 
parley  before  firing.  Accordingly  Mr.  Stuart,  taking 
with  him  one  companion,  left  the  cabin,  and,  holding 
his  gun  in  one  hand,  extended  the  other  in  token  of 
peace.  Contrary  to  his  expectations  an  Indian  stepped 
forward,  grasped  his  hand  and  shook  it  heartily. 
The  rest  of  the  party,  numbering  about  twenty,  fol- 
lowed the  example  which  he  had  set,  and  the  whites 
were  soon  on  friendly  terms  with  their  visitors.  The 
savages  were  made  welcome,  and  for  two  days  were 
liberally  feasted,  when,  receiving  an  abundance  of 
supplies  and  a  quantity  of  ammunition,  they  took 
their  departure. 

Although  the  warriors  conducted  themselves  with 
tolerable  decency,  their  fierce  appearance,  as  well  as 


176  THE   BACK-WOODSMEN. 

the  ugly  disposition  which  they  manifested  at  times, 
were  far  from  reassuring.     Besides,  they  had  commu- 
nicated a  piece  of  information  which  caused  the  travel 
ers  renewed  concern.     They  were  on  their  way,  they 
said,  to  make  war  against  a    neighboring    band  of 
Crows,  who  had  attacked  one  of  their  villages  dur 
ing  their  absence  and  stolen  large  quantities  of  pro 
visions  and  a  number  of  horses. 

Thus  exposed  to  attack  from  two  dangerous  tribes, 
the  adventurers  concluded  that  a  longer  stay  in  their 
quarters  would  be  attended  with  great  jeopardy,  and 
they  therefore  decided  to  break  up  their  encampment 
and  proceed.  Loading  their  pack-horse  with  all  that 
it  could  carry,  they  set  out  with  heavy  hearts  on  the 
i3th  day  of  December,  1812,  proposing  to  march  for 
a  week  or  two,  and  then  settle  once  more  for  the 
winter. 

After  wandering,  for  about  fourteen  days,  through 
deep  snows  and  over  bleak  prairies,  they  encamped 
in  a  fine  alluvial  bottom  on  the  Platte  River,  erected 
a  cabin,  laid  in  a  stock  of  game,  and  prepared  to 
enjoy  themselves  in  this  their  second  chosen  habita- 
tion. Fortunately,  they  were  now  left  undisturbed ; 
and  they  led  a  peaceable  and  happy  life  during  their 
stay  in  this  pleasant  place. 

On  the  8th  of  March  they  struck  camp,  and  em- 
barked in  two  canoes  which  they  had  hollowed  from 
the  trunks  of  trees.  Provided  with  plenty  of  every 
thing  needed  for  their  journey,  they  dropped  merrily 
down  the  stream  for  some  distance;  but  it  was  not 
long  before  they  found  that  continued  navigation  was 


ROBERT    McCLELLAN   ON    THE    PLAINS.  177 

hopeless,  since  the  river  was,  in  places,  extremely 
shallow,  and  was  often  obstructed  by  sand-bars. 
They  accordingly  landed,  and  went  on  foot,  still  ac- 
companied by  their  faithful  pack-horse. 

The  country  through  which  they  marched  was  re- 
markably fertile,  and  was  filled  with  game  in  amazing 
variety  and  abundance.  Flocks  of  wild-geese  and 
waterfowl  crowded  every  stream,  or  peopled  the  air, 
so  as  almost  to  darken  the  heavens,  while  immense 
herds  of  buffalo  tramped  over  the  boundless  plains 
in  such  numbers  that  the  ears  of  the  travelers  were 
constantly  filled  with  the  roar  of  their  echoing  hoofs. 
The  adventurers  remembered  their  former  distress  in 
the  desolate  wilderness;  and,  contrasting  their  pres- 
ent situation  with  their  past,  wondered  at  the  myste- 
rious ways  of  Providence. 

After  various  adventures,  they  reached  one  of  the 
villages  of  the  Otto  Indians,  on  the  lower  Platte. 
Here  they  met  two  white  traders  from  St.  Louis ; 
and  from  them  they  learned,  .for  the  first  time,  that 
war  existed  between  the  United  States  and  Great 
Britain.  At  this  point  they  were  provided  with  a 
large  canoe ;  and,  taking  once  more  to  the  river, 
they  went  on  their  way.  Their  passage  was  easy 
and  agreeable.  The  Missouri  was  reached  in  the 
course  of  a  few  days ;  and,  shortly  afterward,  the 
party  arrived,  in  excellent  health  and  spirits,  at  St. 
Louis. 

The  remainder  of  Robert  McClellan's  life  is  soon 
told.  Shortly  after  his  return  to  St.  Louis,  he  pur' 
chased  a  stock  of  goods,  and  opened  a  trading-station 


1/8  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

at  a  place  named  Cape  Girardeau.  In  consequence 
of  the  great  hardships  to  which  he  had  been  sub- 
jected, his  health  became  seriously  impaired;  and, 
continuing  to  fail,  he  died,  at  his  establishment,  to- 
ward the  close  of  the  following  year.  Thus  termin- 
ated the  checkered  career  of  this  brave  and  famous 
adventurer. 


THE  CAPTIVITY  OF  JOHN  McCULLOUGH. 


JOHN  McCULLOUGH  was  born,  about  the  year 
J  1748,  in  Newcastle  County,  Delaware.  A  short 
time  before  the  beginning  of  the  French  and  Indian 
War,  his  parents  removed  to  one  of  the  frontier  set- 
tlements of  Pennsylvania,  where  they  purchased  a  tract 
of  land,  and  settled  with  their  family.  By  thrift  and 
industry,  they  soon  succeeded  in  placing  themselves 
in  easy  circumstances,  erecting  a  comfortable  habita- 
tion, clearing  the  country  around  them,  and  rendering 
their  ground  cultivable  and  highly  productive. 

The  family  had  not  occupied  their  new  home  long 
before  the  growing  aggressiveness  of  the  French  and 
their  Indian  allies  spread  alarm  and  terror  throughout 
the  British  settlements.  Depredations  became  numer- 
ous, many  lives  were  lost,  and  the  whole  country  lay 
at  the  mercy  of  the  savages.  Alarmed  for  the  safety 
of  his  family,  Mr.  McCullough  determined  to  fly  from 
so  dangerous  a  neighborhood ;  and  accordingly  re- 
moved, with  his  wife  and  children,  to  a  part  of  the 
State  which  was  more  remote  from  the  Indian  country, 
and  which,  being  more  thickly  settled,  was  regarded 
as  comparatively  secure. 

In  the  spring  of  1 756,  the  year  after  the  memorable 
defeat  of  General  Braddock,  Mr.  McCullough,  learn- 


I  SO  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

ing  that  the  hostile  spirit  of  the  Indians  had  subsided 
somewhat,  concluded  that  it  was  safe  to  return ;  but 
he  had  no  sooner  reached  his  frontier  home  than  the 
alarm  was  again  spread,  and  he  was  once  more  com- 
pelled to  flee.  This  time,  he  remained  until  the  be- 
ginning of  the  harvest  season,  when,  solicitous  for  the 
safety  of  his  crops,  he  started  home  for  the  second 
time,  taking  with  him  his  family  and  effects.  But, 
fearing  lest  the  Indians  should  learn  of  his  return, 
and  lie  in  wait  for  him,  he  did  not  think  it  prudent  to 
take  his  family  the  whole  distance ;  but,  leaving  them 
in  a  cabin  several  miles  from  his  home,  went  on  alone 
to  garner  the  crops,  with  the  promise  to  return  at  the 
end  of  each  day. 

On  the  26th  of  July,  1756,  Mr.  McCullough,  with 
his  wife  and  eldest  daughter,  set  out,  early  in  the 
morning,  for  the  farm,  intending  to  pull  flax.  They 
were  accompanied  by  a  neighbor,  Mr.  John  Allen, 
who  was  on  his  way  to  a  fort  at  some  distance,  and 
who  proposed  to  meet  them  in  the  evening,  and  re- 
turn with  them. 

Mr.  Allen  went  with  the  McCulloughs  to  their  field ; 
and,  leaving  them  at  work,  continued  his  journey.  He 
had  gone  about  two  miles,  when  he  saw  a  man  running 
toward  him  at  break-neck  speed  from  an  adjoining 
wood ;  and,  stopping  his  horse,  he  waited  until  he 
came  up,  and  then  asked  what  was  the  matter. 
When  the  man  had  time  to  recover  his  breath,  he  said 
that  he  had  been  working  with  a  companion  in  the 
field,  about  a  mile  and  a  half  from  the  McCullough 
farm,  when  a  shot  was  fired  by  an  Indian  from  a 


THE    CAPTIVITY    OF   JOHN    McCULLOUGH.  l8l 

neighboring  thicket.  His  companion  fell  dead;  and 
he,  also,  would  doubtless  have  been  killed,  had  he  not 
betaken  himself  to  flight,  and  so  escaped. 

Without  waiting  to  learn  more,  Allen  turned  round  ; 
and,  taking  a  circuitous  route,  in  order  to  avoid  the 
Indians,  whom  he  supposed  to  be  in  the  neighbor- 
hood, set  out  for  his  home.  Arriving  at  the  dwelling 
temporarily  occupied  by  the  McCulloughs,  he  called 
to  Mr.  McCullough's  little  boy,  John,  who,  with  his 
younger  brother,  was  playing  in  the  road;  and,  in- 
forming him  that  a  man  had  been  killed  a  few  hours 
before  by  the  Indians,  and  that  his  father,  mother,  and 
sister  had  probably  shared  a  like  fate,  told  him  to 
go  immediately  into  the  house,  and  then  rode  off  to 
arouse  the  neighborhood. 

John  McCullough  was,  at  this  time,  about  eight 
years  old.  For  one  so  youthful,  he  possessed  sin- 
gular resolution,  courage,  and  discretion ;  and,  in- 
stead of  following  Mr.  Allen's  advice,  and  seeking 
his  own  safety,  his  thoughts  were  occupied  with  con- 
cern for  his  parents ;  and  he  accordingly  set  his  mind 
to  work  to  devise  some  scheme  for  obtaining  their 
rescue.  The  men  of  the  surrounding  country  soon 
gathered  in  a  body ;  and  it  was  determined  that,  since 
an  Indian  attack  was  imminent,  they  should  proceed, 
with  their  families,  to  a  fort  about  a  mile  distant,  and 
there  take  shelter.  Young  McCullough  endeavored 
in  vain  to  induce  them  to  march  to  the  relief  of  his 
parents,  or  else  to  send  a  messenger  to  inform  them 
of  their  danger.  They  told  him  that  his  father  and 
mother  had,  by  this  time,  doubtless,  been  murdered ; 


1 82  THE   BACK-WOODSMEN. 

and  concluded  by  instructing  him  to  get  ready  and 
join  them  in  their  proposed  inarch  to  the  fort. 

Finding  that  no  one  would  undertake  to  go  to  the 
place  where  his  parents  were  at  work  and  inform  them 
of  their  peril,  the  boy  resolved  to  perform  the  duty 
himself.  He  therefore  went  into  the  house,  kissed 
his  little  sister,  who  lay  sleeping  in  her  bed,  good- 
bye, barred  the  door;  and,  climbing  out  through  the 
window,  rejoined  his  brother,  and  started  with  him, 
unnoticed  by  any  person,  in  the  direction  of  his 
father's  home. 

Running  as  fast  as  possible,  the  two  boys  soon 
came  within  sight  of  the  house;  and,  rejoiced  at  the 
thought  of  having  succeeded  in  their  design,  com- 
menced to  sing  and  halloo.  But,  when  within  fifty 
or  sixty  yards  of  the  cabin,  they  were  suddenly  start- 
led by  a  rustling  in  the  bushes  on  their  right;  and, 
casting  a  fearful  glance  in  the  direction  from  which 
the  noise  came,  they  almost  sank  to  the  ground  in 
fright  when  they  saw  six  Indians,  hideously  painted 
and  grotesquely  clad,  gliding  noiselessly  toward  them. 

To  capture  the  boys  was  the  work  of  but  an  in- 
stant; and,  stifling  their  screams,  the  Indians  started 
off  with  them  at  full  speed.  John,  who  was  quite 
large  and  stout  for  his  age,  was  made  to  keep  pace 
with  the  party ;  but  his  brother,  a  child  of  five  yearss 
was  taken  up  and  carried  by  one  of  the  savages. 

Skirting  the  field  where  John's  parents  were  at 
work,  the  Indians  ran  swiftly  and  silently,  occasion- 
ally stopping  to  listen.  Soon  they  heard  the  voice 
of  Mr.  McGiUough,  at  a  distance,  calling  his  children, 


THE    CAPTIVITY    OF   JOHN    McCULLOUGH.  183 

whose  screams  he  had  heard,  and  whom  he  had  gone 
to  look  for.  After  a  moment's  consultation  among 
the  Indians,  two  of  them,  cocking  their  rifles  and 
stealing  silently  through  the  bushes,  set  off  in  the 
direction  from  which  the  voice  was  heard,  while 
the  other  four  continued  their  flight  with  renewed 
speed. 

The  savages  traveled  with  their  prisoners  all  day, 
allowing  them  scarcely  a  moment  for  rest.  Toward 
evening  it  commenced  to  rain.  The  water  fell  in 
torrents,  but  the  Indians  did  not  slacken  their  speed. 
Darkness  came  on,  and  still  they  proceeded  without 
a  halt ;  and  it  was  not  until  very  late  that  they  finally 
stopped  and  prepared  for  rest.  The  two  boys  spent 
a  very  unhappy  and  restless  night,  lying  without  a 
covering  on  the  bare  damp  earth. 

The  following  day,  the  Indians  proceeded  with  equal 
expedition,  and  did  not  stop  even  to  take  food.  On 
the  morning  of  the  third  day,  they  made  a  bountiful 
repast  on  some  game  which  had  been  killed, — the 
first  morsel  which  either  the  savages  or  their  captives 
had  eaten  since  they  commenced  their  flight.  While 
sitting  round  their  fire,  a  loud  whoop  was  heard  in  the 
valley  below.  The  Indians  arose,  and  listened  intently. 
The  cry  was  repeated ;  and,  apparently  satisfied,  the 
four  savages  set  up  an  answering  yell.  In  a  few  mo- 
ments, two  warriors  were  seen  approaching;  and,  on 
a  nearer  view,  young  McCullough  recognized  them 
as  the  Indians  who,  on  hearing  his  fathers  call,  had 
started  off,  as  he  feared  at  the  time,  in  search  of  ? 
new  victim. 


184  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

Closely  scrutinizing  these  men,  the  boy  saw,  to  his 
unspeakable  horror,  that  one  of  them  carried  in  his 
belt  a  scalp  which  he  had  taken,  apparently,  a  day 
or  two  before.  And,  casting  a  fearful  glance  at  this 
bloody  token  of  savage  barbarity,  his  horror  changed 
to  despair  when  he  discovered  that  the  hair,  which 
was  long,  bushy,  and  very  black,  closely  resembled 
that  of  his  father.  Wishing  to  assure  himself  beyond 
a  doubt  of  the  correctness  of  his  suspicions,  he  ap- 
proached the  Indian,  and  was  about  to  examine  the 
scalp  more  narrowly,  when  the  savage,  drawing  his 
tomahawk  from  his  belt,  and  uttering  a  fiendish  yell, 
raised  it  in  the  air,  and  then  let  it  fall  swiftly,  appar- 
ently with  the  intention  of  burying  it  in  the  boy's 
head.  But,  quickly  changing  his  purpose,  he  checked 
the  weapon,  restored  it  to  his  belt,  and  then,  clutching 
the  youth  by  the  hair,  seized  his  knife,  and  passed  its 
sharp  point  dexterously  around  the  scalp.  Paralyzed 
with  terror,  McCullough  sank  fainting  to  the  ground. 
On  reviving,  his  ears  were  greeted  with  a  series  of 
sharp,  short  yells ;  and,  venturing  to  look  at  the  In- 
dians, he  saw  them  rolling  on  the  ground,  convulsed 
with  merriment,  and  giving  utterance  to  the  most  ex- 
travagant bursts  of  laughter. 

The  rude  treatment  which  he  had  received  from 
the  facetious  Indian  did  not  encourage  the  boy  to 
seek  another  opportunity  of  ascertaining  whether  his 
fears  were  well  or  ill-grounded.  He  was,  however, 
fully  persuaded  that  the  scalp  which  the  savage  car- 
ried was  that  of  his  father;  and,  thoroughly  disheart- 
ened by  this  dreadful  conviction  he  gave  up  in  despair, 


THE    CAPTIVITY    OF   JOHN    McCULLOUGH.  187 

fearing  that  a  similar  fate  would  soon  be  his  own 
portion. 

Toward  the  close  of  this  day,  the  party  crossed  a 
broad  road,  in  sight  of  a  waste  house,  and,  proceed- 
ing about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  further  on,  they  ate 
their  supper,  and  encamped  for  the  night.  Immedi- 
ately after  passing  the  road,  the  thought  suddenly 
flashed  across  the  mind  of  young  McCullough  that 
they  were  in  a  country  occupied  by  white  settlers; 
and  that,  if  he  could  succeed  in  getting  away,  he 
might,  by  following  the  highway,  soon  find  protectors 
and  friends. 

Filled  with  the  idea  of  fortunate  escape  and  happy 
return,  he  waited  until  the  Indians  were  asleep;  and 
then,  gently  awakening  his  brother,  who  lay  by  his 
side,  whispered  to  him  to  rise  and  prepare  for  flight. 
But,  to  his  great  astonishment  and  disgust,  the  child 
refused  to  stir,  saying  that  the  Indians  would  cer- 
tainly discover  and  kill  them  both.  Remonstrance 
and  entreaty  were  vain ;  and  the  adventurous  youth, 
finding  that  his  brother  would  not  be  persuaded,  re- 
solved to  make  the  attempt  alone. 

Lying  perfectly  silent  for  a  few  moments,  he  list- 
ened with  breathless  anxiety,  seeking  to  ascertain 
whether  the  Indians  were  all  sleeping,  and  revolving 
in  his  mind  what  plan  he  should  adopt  in  case  of  de- 
tection. By  the  fitful  light  of  the  fire,  he  saw  that 
the  savages  lay  between  him  and  the  open  space  be- 
yond the  camp,  and  that  he  should  have  to  step  over 
their  bodies  before  he  could  begin  his  flight.  They, 
seemed  to  be  in  deep  slumber,  for  they  breathed 


1 88  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

heavily,  and  lay  absolutely  motionless.  The  boy  rose 
silently  from  the  ground;  and,  taking  a  survey  of  the 
sleeping  men,  was  about  to  make  a  step  forward,  when 
one  of  the  savages,  rolling  in  his  sleep,  muttered  a 
few  unintelligible  words  in  Indian.  McCullough  in- 
stantly sank  to  the  ground.  In  a  few  moments,  as 
the  Indian  did  not  stir,  he  again  arose ;  and,  advanc- 
ing cautiously,  stepped  over  the  form  of  one  of  his 
captors  without  awakening  him.  With  the  utmost 
silence,  he  continued  to  make  his  way,  and  finally 
arrived  on  open  ground  a  few  yards  from  the  fire. 

Thinking  that  he  had  not  been  perceived,  he  fan- 
cied that  all  that  now  remained  was  to  make  the  best 
of  his  escape ;  but  he  had  no  sooner  prepared  to  run, 
than  one  of  the  Indians,  rising  from  the  ground, 
sternly  asked  him,  in  broken  English,  where  he  was 
going?  Although  this  unexpected  address  filled  the 
boy  with  dismay,  he  was  not  unprepared  for  the  emer- 
gency, and  he  returned  an  answer  which  quieted  the 
suspicions  of  his  interlocutor,  who,  saying  merely, 
"Make  haste;  come,  sleep,"  again  lay  down.  The 
boy  now  knew  that  escape  was  hopeless ;  and  in  a 
few  moments  he  returned  to  the  camp,  and  took  his 
place  on  the  ground  next  to  his  brother. 

The  destination  of  the  Indians  was  Fort  Duquesne, 
the  French  head-quarters,  situated  on  the  present  site 
of  Pittsburgh.  They  traveled  with  great  speed,  and 
young  McCullough  was  obliged  to  make  the  entire 
distance  on  foot.  Besides  suffering  a  great  deal  from 
privation  and  fatigue,  he  was  several  times  sorely 
beaten  by  his  cruel  and  malicious  captors,  who  threat- 


THE    CAPTIVITY    OF   JOHN    McCULLOUGH.  189 

ened  him  with  death  the  instant  that  he  showed  any 
sign  of  giving  up. 

A  short  time  before  they  arrived  at  Fort  Duquesne, 
the  Indians  pulled  all  of  the  hair  out  of  the  heads  of 
the  two  boys,  excepting  a  small  tuft  on  their  crowns, 
to  which  they  tied  several  hawk's  feathers;  and  then, 
painting  the  faces  of  their  captives  in  a  most  ugly  and 
barbarous  manner,  they  raised  the  war-halloo,  and 
marched  into  the  town.  After  the  customary  greet- 
ings had  been  exchanged,  the  two  boys  were  taken 
to  a  French  house,  where  they  found  a  number  of 
Indians  sitting  on  the  floor.  They  were  received 
and  treated  with  very  little  ceremony;  for,  immedi- 
ately on  their  entrance,  one  of  the  warriors,  appar- 
ently a  chie/,  took  the  younger  lad  by  the  hand,  and, 
leading  him  to  the  door,  gave  him  to  a  Frenchman, 
who  stood  waiting.  He  next  turned  to  John  McCul- 
lough,  and,  after  a  few  words,  led  him  to  an  Indian 
who  sat  smoking  on  the  hearth ;  and,  presenting  the 
boy  to  him,  made  a  brief  address,  evidently  by  way 
of  instruction.  Though  McCullough  could  not  un- 
derstand a  word  that  was  spoken,  he  knew  that  he 
was  now  to  regard  the  warrior  as  his  master,  and  he 
therefore  sat  quietly  down  by  his  side,  waiting  for  him 
to  speak. 

After  the  chief  had  finished  his  exhortation,  the 
Indian,  taking  the  youth  between  his  legs,  told  him 
in  English  that  he  was  glad  to  see  him.  He  saluted 
him  as  his  brother,  saying  that  the  Indian  braves  had 
several  times  before  brought  young  white  boys  into 
camp ;  and  that  about  a  year  since  a  white  youth  had 


THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

been  taken  by  them,  and  had  been  given  to  him  as  his 
brother.  But,  he  added,  his  young  white  brother  had 
not  behaved  himself  properly, — he  evidently  did  not 
love  his  red  brethren,  and  his  conduct  was  so  bad 
that  it  had  been  found  necessary  to  kill  him.  The 
Indian  said  that  he  was  very  sorry ;  and  he  expressed 
the  hope  that  his  new  brother  would  be  more  tracta- 
ble, and,  instead  of  being  killed  while  young,  would 
some  day  become  a  hunter  and  brave. 

This  savage  was  very  communicative,  and  appeared 
to  be  more  intelligent  and  better  disposed  than  most 
of  his  tribe.  He  said  that  he  had  lived  for  many  years 
among  the  whites,  having,  indeed,  been  raised  by  them, 
and  taught  to  read  and  write.  He  spoke  tolerable 
English,  and  could  repeat  the  letters  of  the  alphabet, 
although,  farther  than  this,  his  attainments  were  not 
very  extensive. 

After  a  brief  conversation  the  Indian  took  the 
youth  by  the  hand  and  led  him  out  of  the  house  to- 
ward the  river.  Embarking  in  a  canoe,  they  crossed 
the  stream  to  a  point  where  a  number  of  Indians 
were  encamped.  Here,  while  his  master  made  merry 
with  the  rest  of  his  people,  young  McCullough  was 
given  to  two  youths,  who,  stepping  into  the  canoe, 
and  placing  him  between  them,  paddled  about  forty 
yards  from  the  shore.  They  then  stopped,  and,  seiz- 
ing the  boy  by  the  wrists,  plunged  him  into  the 
water,  where  they  held  him  until  he  was  almost 
strangled.  Drawing  him  up  at  the  end  of  a  minute 
or  two,  they  permitted  him  to  breathe,  and  then  re- 
peated the  process  a  number  of  times.  Thinking 


THE    CAPTIVITY    OF   JOHN    MCCULLOUGH. 

that  their  object  was  to  drown  him,  he  pleaded  so 
piteously  for  mercy  that  one  of  the  youths  finally 
quieted  his  fears  by  saying:  "Me  no  killim ;  me 
washim," — an  assurance  which  he  followed  up  by 
again  plunging  the  boy  over  his  head  in  the  water. 
When  the  ablution  was  completed,  the  boat  was 
rowed  to  the  shore,  and  young  McCullough  was 
given  a  new  ruffled  shirt  and  a  pair  of  trowsers,  and 
informed  that  he  was  now  to  appear  and  act  as  an 
Indian.  A  day  or  two  after,  the  young  man,  whom  he 
regarded  as  his  master,  bade  him  adieu,  and  he  was 
taken  to  a  town  called  Shenango,  at  some  distance, 
and  placed  in  an  Indian  family. 

He  now  found  that  the  savage  who  had  addressed 
him  as  his  brother,  and  given  him  so  much  good  ad- 
vice, was  a  nephew  of  the  old  man  whom  he  was 
henceforth  to  regard  as  his  Indian  father,  and  conse- 
quently that  the  relationship  which  he  was  to  bear 
him  was,  indeed,  that  of  a  brother. 

The  first  few  months  of  his  life  at  Shenango  were 
passed  by  the  boy  with  little  incident.  His  new  re- 
lations lost  no  time  in  acquainting  him  with  the  duties 
of  Indian  domestic  life.  He  was  obliged  to  work 
hard ;  and,  in  order  that  his  physical  education  might 
be  made  as  complete  as  possible,  he  was  frequently 
required  to  give  proof  of  his  spirit  and  prowess  by 
contests  with  youths  of  his  own  age  and  size.  The 
Indians  evidently  had  very  little  faith  in  the  efficacy 
of  the  methods  of  raising  and  training  children  prev- 
alent among  the  whites  ;  and  young  McCullough  was 
therefore  obliged  to  go  through  what  may  be  termed 


THE  BACK-WOODSMEN. 

the  process  of  "hardening"  before  he  was  looked 
upon  by  his  Indian  father  and  brothers  with  any  other 
emotions  than  contempt  and  pity. 

Early  one  morning,  about  the  end  of  October,  he 
was  aroused  from  his  sleep  by  the  old  Indian,  and 
told  to  get  out  of  bed  immediately.  He  obeyed, 
and  was  about  to  put  on  his  clothes,  when  the  savage 
checked  him,  and,  opening  the  door  of  the  cabin, 
commanded  him  to  leave  the  room  and  go  ahead  of 
him  to  the  river.  Not  daring  to  protest,  he  did  as 
he  was  ordered,  and,  issuing  from  the  hut,  walked, 
without  a  garment  to  cover  him,  in  the  chill  morning 
air,  toward  the  stream.  Arriving  on  the  bank,  he  sat 
down,  waiting  for  the  old  man  to  come  up.  For 
nearly  fifteen  minutes  he  sat  shivering  on  the  cold 
earth,  and  then,  as  the  Indian  did  not  appear,  arose, 
and  was  about  to  return  when  he  saw  his  master 
coming  leisurely  toward  him,  smoking  his  pipe.  The 
old  Indian,  on  arriving  where  the  boy  sat,  suddenly 
stopped,  and  then,  turning  round  as  if  he  had  for- 
gotten something,  retraced  his  steps  to  the  cabin. 
In  a  few  moments  he  reappeared,  carrying  a  thin,  flat 
board  in  one  hand.  He  came  up  to  the  boy,  and, 
taking  his  pipe  from  his  mouth,  pointed  to  the  water, 
and  ordered  him  to  wade  into  it  and  sit  down.  In- 
dignant at  the  treatment  which  he  had  received, 
McCulJough,  who  was  very  spirited  and  rebellious, 
refused,  and,  turning  round,  was  about  to  run,  when 
the  Indian  seized  him  by  the  throat,  and.  grasping 
his  paddle,  commenced  to  thrash  him  unmercifully. 
After  administering  a  severe  punishment,  he  repeated 


THE   CAPTIVITY  OF   JOHN    MCCULLOUGH.  193 

his  order,  and  the  boy,  fearing  lest  his  master  should 
beat  him  to  death,  complied,  and,  walking  into  the 
river,  sat  down  in  the  cold  water.  The  Indian  ex- 
pressed himself  satisfied,  and  stood  for  awhile  look- 
ing at  the  youth,  smoking  his  pipe  in  the  meantime 
with  great  complacency. 

After  he  had  sat  for  about  ten  minutes,  McCul- 
lough  was  told  that  he  might  come  out,  and  accord- 
ingly left  the  water.  The  Indian  then  hit  him  a 
smart  blow,  and  ordered  him  to  run  around  till  his 
flesh  should  be  perfectly  dry.  The  boy  obeyed, 
and,  when  he  had  taken  the  proper  exercise,  was  per- 
mitted to  return  to  the  house,  clothe  himself,  and  sit 
by  the  fire.  The  next  morning  he  was  put  through 
the  same  ordeal,  and  each  successive  morning  was 
taken  from  his  bed,  and  compelled  by  the  old  man  to 
sit  for  a  few  minutes  up  to  his  chin  in  the  water.  So 
fixed  was  the  Indian's  determination  to  "harden" 
the  yOuth  by  this  stern  process,  that,  when  the  frosts 
of  winter  closed  the  stream,  he  would  take  an  axe, 
break  the  ice,  and  send  him  into  the  freezing  current  as 
before,  never  permitting  him  to  go  near  the  fire  until 
his  flesh  had  been  dried  by  chafing  or  swift  running. 

In  consequence  of  this  cruel  treatment  it  was  not 
long  before  the  boy  was  taken  very  ill.  Having  no 
one  to  care  for  him  but  an  Indian  woman,  a  careless, 
slovenly  creature,  he  became  worse  and  worse,  and 
fell  into  an  almost  hopeless  condition ;  but,  receiving 
after  awhile  kinder  attention  and  more  skillful  nurs- 
ing, he  gradually  commenced  to  gain,  and,  finally, 
recovered. 


194  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

As  it  was  now  spring,  McCullough's  Indian  father, 
thinking,  no  doubt,  that  the  warmer  temperature  of 
the  water  would  have  an  enervating  effect,  did  not 
continue  the  hardening  process.  He  kept  the  boy, 
however,  at  hard  work,  and  obliged  him  to  fight  and 
wrestle,  in  order  that  he  might  become  active  and 
obtain  good  muscular  development.  In  all  the  duties 
imposed  upon  him  the  youth  showed  himself  to  be 
very  faithful,  and,  by  the  address  which  he  displayed 
in  his  sparring  and  wrestling  matches,  soon  gained 
the  favor  of  his  masters  and  associates,  by  whom, 
instead  of  being  looked  down  upon  as  the  puny 
white  boy,  he  was  now  praised  and  respected  as  the 
active  and  dexterous  Indian  youth. 

During  the  summer  young  McCullough  was  taken 
by  the  savages  to  a  council  of  the  Indians  at  Pres- 
quile,  held  for  the  purpose  of  effecting  a  treaty  with 
the  French.  While  on  their  way  the  party  stopped 
at  a  trading-station  to  barter  for  goods  and  ammuni- 
tion. At  this  place,  an  old  Frenchman,  seeing  the 
boy,  and  admiring  his  strength  and  activity,  proposed 
to  purchase  him  from  his  Indian  masters.  A  dis- 
pute with  regard  to  terms  followed.  To  the  intense 
disgust  of  the  Indians,  the  trader,  instead  of  offering 
them  provisions,  rum,  and  powder  and  ball,  went  to 
his  canoe,  which  was  fastened  to  a  stake  on  the 
shore,  and,  taking  from  it  an  old  rusty  spade,  want- 
ing the  handle,  returned  and  offered  the  implement  in 
exchange,  saying  that  the  bargain  would  be  a  most 
advantageous  one  to  them,  and  threatening,  unless 
they  agreed  to  his  terms,  to  call  his  comrades  and 


THE    CAPTIVITY    OF  JOHN    McCULLOUGH.  195 

take  the  youth  from  them  by  force.  Overhearing 
this  proposition  and  threat,  young  McCullough, 
deeply  incensed,  came  up  to  the  man,  and  asked 
leave  to  examine  the  tool,  remarking,  at  the  same 
time,  that  the  offer  was  a  fair  one,  and  should  be  ac- 
cepted. The  Frenchman  handed  him  the  spade, 
when  McCullough,  grasping  it  with  both  hands, 
raised  it  in  the  air  and  dealt  him  so  powerful  a  blow 
that  he  fell  senseless.  The  alarm  was  at  once  raised, 
and  the  wounded  man's  comrades  hastened  to  the 
rescue,  hoping  to  apprehend  the  Indians ;  but  the 
latter,  quickly  taking  to  their  canoes,  escaped  up  the 
river. 

At  Presquile,  McCullough  was  left  with  an  old 
squaw,  by  whom  he  was  very  well  used,  until  the 
fall,  when  the  Indian  who  called  himself  his  brother 
came  to  take  him  back  to  Shenango.  Upon  his  ar- 
rival he  fell  dangerously  ill  of  the  pleurisy,  and, 
although  he  received  kind  and  attentive  treatment,  it 
was  nearly  a  month  before  he  rose  from  his  sick-bed. 

After  his  recovery,  the  life  which  he  had  previ- 
ously led  continued  with  little  variation.  He  re- 
mained for  about  two  years  and  one-half  in  Shenango, 
and  then  removed  with  the  family  to  Salt  Licks,  on 
the  Beaver  River.  As  time  advanced,  he  became, 
by  the  force  of  circumstances,  gradually  transformed 
into  an  Indian  youth,  both  in  manner  and  appearance. 

During  his  stay  with  the  family  of  his  adopted 
parents,  he  met  with,  a  number  of  very  serious  mis- 
adventures. On  one  occasion  he  came  very  near 
being  drowned,  and  was  saved  only  by  the  timely 


196  THE   BACK-WOODSMEN. 

aid  of  an  old  squaw,  who  discovered  him  floating  on 
the  water,  arid  raised  the  alarm.  Her  husband 
came  to  the  rescue,  dragged  the  youth  to  the  shore, 
held  him  for  a  few  moments  head  downwards,  and 
finally  succeeded,  though  with  great  difficulty,  in 
resuscitating  him.  He  was  several  times  cruelly 
beaten  and  maltreated ;  and  some  of  the  stories  which 
he  relates  in  his  narrative  of  Indian  malice  and  bar- 
barity are  peculiarly  revolting.  One  of  these  will 
serve  to  show  the  lengths  to  which  punishment  for 
trivial  offenses  was  carried  by  the  more  brutal  of 
the  Indian  tribes. 

The  Indian  youth  among  whom  McCullough  was 
thrown,  were  much  addicted  to  thievishness,  lying, 
and  all  kinds  of  petty  villainy.  Watermelon  and 
cucumber-patches  were  never  safe  from  their  depre- 
dations, and  mischief  of  every  sort  was  committed 
by  them  so  frequently  that  it  was  exceedingly  rare 
that  a  day  passed  without  some  one  being  severely 
chastised. 

In  order  to  render  crime  odious  in  the  sight  of 
the  youth,  by  making  its  punishment  summary  and 
terrible,  one  of  the  Indians  invented  an  instrument 
of  torture  which,  when  once  used  on  the  body  of 
an  offender,  was  but  poorly  calculated  to  induce 
him  to  invite  a  second  chastisement.  This  instru- 
ment was  made  of  the  long,  bony  bill  of  the  gar, 
a  fish  exceedingly  abundant  in  the  Western  waters, 
and  was  formed  by  projecting  the  sharp  teeth  of 
the  animal  through  a  wet  rag.  When  an  offense 
was  committed  which  merited  punishment  with  the 


THE    CAPTIVITY    OF  JOHN    McCULLOUGH.  1 97 

instrument,  the  unfortunate  youth  was  stripped 
naked,  his  flesh  was  thoroughly  dampened,  in  order 
to  prevent  it  from  tearing-,  and  he  was  scored  from 
his  hip  to  his  heel,  three  or  four  times  on  each  leg. 
When  his  offense  was  peculiarly  odious,  he  was 
scored  cruelly  all  over  his  body,  often  from  the  top 
of  his  shoulders  to  his  heels,  and  thence  on  the 
soles  of  his  feet  to  his  toes,  and  sometimes  on  his 
breast  and  belly,  and  even  on  his  face. 

The  man  who  first  brought  this  terrible  instrument 
into  use  had  a  boy  who  was  very  mischievous  and 
quarrelsome,  and  who,  on  account  of  his  wicked  ways, 
was  often  punished  by  his  father  with  such  extreme 
rigor  that  his  back,  arms,  thighs  and  legs  were  con- 
stantly lacerated  and  raw.  Not  satisfied  with  being 
in  trouble  himself,  this  boy  was  frequently  the  means 
of  causing  his  companions  disgrace  and  chastisement 
on  accout  of  offenses  for  which  he  was  responsible,  or 
of  which  he  was  the  agent. 

One  day,  young  McCullough  was  sent  by  the  wife 
of  his  Indian  brother  on  an  errand  to  the  cabin  of 
this  man.  He  performed  the  message  with  which  he 
was  intrusted,  and  then  started  to  return,  when  the 
mischievous  Indian  boy,  running  up  to  him,  ad- 
dressed him  a  few  insulting  words,  and  then,  stoop- 
ing to  the  ground,  picked  up  the  putrid  entrails  of  a 
turtle,  and  throwing  them  in  his  face,  started  to  run. 
Provoked  beyond  measure,  McCullough  seized  a 
stone,  and,  pursuing  the  young  Indian,  hurled  it  with 
such  force  that,  striking  him  on  the  head,  it  knocked 

him  senseless  and  bleeding  to  the  ground. 

11. 


198  THE   BACK-WOODSMEN. 

Terrified  at  the  effect  of  the  blow,  and  fearful  of 
receiving  severe  punishment  for  the  part  which  he 
had  borne  in  the  quarrel,  young  McCullough,  after 
striving  in  vain  to  raise  his  wounded  adversary,  ran 
to  one  of  the  out-houses  belonging  to  the  cabin,  and 
concealed  himself  among  some  bales  of  deer-skins 
and  furs.  He  had  not  lain  long  before  he  heard  a 
bustle  in  the  yard,  followed  by  the  sound  of  angry 
voices.  Venturing  to  look  through  a  crack  in  the 
side  of  the  building,  he  saw  the  father  of  the  Indian 
boy  stalking  around  in  a  furious  rage,  and  inquiring 
with  oaths  and  violent  demonstrations  for  the  of- 
fender. 

He  was  told  by  one  of  his  children,  who  had  been 
a  quiet  spectator  of  the  affair,  that  the  deed  had  been 
committed  by  the  white  youth,  who  had  immediately 
made  off  and  concealed  himself  in  the  thick  bushes 
bordering  a  neighboring  creek.  The  enraged  Indian, 
on  receiving  this  information,  ran  to  the  place  which, 
the  child  indicated,  and  made  a  careful  search ;  but, 
being  unsuccessful,  returned  in  a  still  more  savage 
mood.  Determined  on  making  an  example  of  some 
one,  he  seized  the  child  who  had  given  the  false  in- 
formation, and,  stripping  it  naked,  quickly  scored  it 
from  head  to  foot  with  his  barbarous  instrument. 
This  done,  he  glared  fiercely  round,  and,  swearing 
that  he  would  treat  every  one  of  the  family  in  the  same 
way,  laid  hold  of  the  other  children,  and  was  about 
to  inflict  a  second  dreadful  punishment,  when  young 
McCullough,  knowing  that  he  would  soon  be  dis- 
covered, and  being  too  generous  to  allow  the  inno- 


THE    CAPTIVITY    OF  JOHN    McCULLOUGH.  199 

cent  to  suffer  for  his  offense,  came  from  his  place  of 
concealment. 

He  was  instantly  pounced  upon  by  the  savage, 
who,  grinding  his  teeth  with  rage,  and  grinning  with 
malicious  joy,  ordered  him  to  strip  and  stand  up  by 
a  post,  which  he  pointed  out.  The  unfortunate  youth 
obeyed,  and  the  Indian,  dashing  over  him  a  bucket  of 
water,  took  his  dreaded  instrument,  and  grasping  his 
victim  by  the  throat,  drew  it  quickly  across  his  back 
from  his  shoulder  to  his  hip,  and  then  scored  him  a 
number  of  times  on  each  thigh  and  leg.  In  his  eager- 
ness to  finish  the  work  of  punishment  he  took  very 
little  care  to  prevent  the  flesh  from  tearing,  and  the 
consequence  was,  that  when  he  finished  the  opera- 
tion, his  victim  was  almost  senseless  from  loss  of 
blood,  and  his  body  was  so  lacerated  that,  in  some 
places,  great  pieces  of  skin  had  either  been  torn 
completely  off,  or  else  hung  loosely.  McCullough 
did  not  recover  from  the  effects  of  this  brutal  treat- 
ment for  many  months,  and  he  bore  the  marks  of  it 
to  his  grave. 

In  spite  of  the  ill  usage  which  he  received  on 
several  occasions,  and  his  dread  of  the  malicious  and 
revengeful  disposition  of  the  Indians,  the  boy  grew 
very  much  attached  to  his  life,  and  had  no  desire  to 
return  home.  He  had  two  or  three  opportunities  of 
communicating  with  his  friends  through  white  traders, 
but,  strange  as  it  may  seem,  he  did  not  avail  himself 
of  them,  preferring  to  remain  among  his  savage  cap- 
tors. Every  tie  which  had  connected  him  with  his 
home  was  now  severed.  He  had  long  since 


2OO  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

given  up  all  hope  of  again  seeing  his  father  or 
mother,  for  he  believed  both  of  them  to  be  dead. 
He  had  also  lost  sight  of  his  younger  brother, 
whom  he  had  not  seen  or  heard  of  since  parting 
from  him  at  Fort  Duquesne.  His  appearance  and 
actions  were  those  of  an  Indian,  and  he  spoke  the 
Indian  tongue  fluently,  almost  without  the  suspicion 
of  an  English  accent. 

When  he  had  been  with  the  savages  for  about  four 
years,  he  one  day  received  a  visit  from  a  white  man, 
who,  from  the  emotion  which  he  manifested  on  seeing 
him,  and  from  the  earnestness  with  which  he  scruti- 
nized his  features,  evidently  felt  for  him  the  deepest 
concern  and  interest.  The  stranger,  when  he  could 
command  his  voice,  asked  the  boy  his  name,  and  in- 
quired of  him  regarding  his  previous  history,  his 
parents,  and  his  hopes  and  intentions  for  the  future. 
To  these  questions  young  McCullough  answered  in 
Indian, — for  he  no  longer  spoke  his  mother  tongue, — 
through  an  interpreter.  He  was  very  reticent,  and 
said  that  he  had  nothing  of  importance  to  tell ;  that 
he  had  once  been  a  white  boy,  but  that  he  was  now 
an  Indian  ;  and,  finally,  that  he  was  content  with  his 
present  lot,  and  would  some  day  be  a  great  warrior. 
The  stranger  again  questioned  him  about  his  home, 
asking  him  if  he  would  not  be  rejoiced  to  hear  that 
his  parents  were  still  living,  and  that  there  was  a  pos- 
sibility of  his  returning  to  them.  The  boy  shook  his 
head,  and  replied  that  he  was  better  off  among  his 
red  friends,  adding,  that  his  parents  would  not  know 
him  nor  he  them.  At  this  the  man  burst  into  tears, 


THE    CAPTIVITY    OF  JOHN   McCULLOUGH.  2OI 

and,  embracing  him,  told  him  that  he  was  his  father; 
that  he  still  loved  him  ;  that,  learning  of  his  where- 
abouts, he  had  come  a  long  distance  to  see  him,  and 
that  he  would  soon  come  again  to  redeem  and  carry 
him  home.  Young  McCullough  did  not  speak,  and 
manifested  little  feelinpf,  and  in  a  short  time  his  father 

o  * 

took' his  departure,  very  sorrowful  and  downcast. 

This  incident  occurred  while  the  boy  was  living  at 
Mahoning,  to  which  place  he  had  been  taken  from  the 
Salt  Licks.  About  six  months  later  his  father,  ac- 
companied by  a  friend,  came  again,  and,  after  a 
brief  negotiation,  the  youth  was  given  up  to  him  and 
informed  that  he  was  to  return  to  his  white  friends. 

This  intelligence,  which,  as  one  would  suppose, 
would  have  been  most  welcome,  was  received  by  the 
youth  with  every  demonstration  of  grief.  He  clung 
to  his  Indian  brother,  begging  him  to  refuse  the 
ransom  money,  and  to  send  the  white  men  away  as 
they  came ;  but  he  was  told  that  the  agreement  had 
been  made,  and  that  he  must  prepare  to  leave.  * 
He  wept  bitterly,  and  spoke  words  of  rage  and 
scorn,  but  it  was  all  to  no  purpose,  and  he  was 
finally  placed  on  the  back  of  a  horse  and  ordered 
to  proceed.  He  threw  himself  from  the  animal,  and 
tried  to  escape ;  but  he  was  soon  overtaken,  replaced 
on  the  steed,  and  his  legs  tied  under  its  belly.  In 
this  helpless  condition  he  was  carried  off,  in  spite 
of  his  remonstrances,  by  his  father,  who,  though 
rejoiced  at  having  recovered  his  long-lost  son, 
went  forward  with  a  very  sad  countenance  and  a 
heavv  heart. 


2O2  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

After  riding  for  about  fifteen  miles  the  party,  com- 
posed of  Mr.  McCullough,  his  captive  son,  and  a 
guide,  dismounted  and  prepared  to  camp.  Fearing 
that  the  boy,  who  had  joined  him  with  so  much  re- 
luctance, and  who,  during  the  journey,  had  evidently 
been  brooding  over  his  wrongs,  might  try  to  run 
away,  Mr.  McCullough  took  the  garters  from  his 
legs,  and  with  them  tied  his  arms  behind  his  back. 
He  then  lay  down,  placing  John  between  himself 
and  the  guide.  When  his  two  companions  were 
asleep,  the  .boy  quickly  loosed  the  cord  with  which 
his  arms  were  bound,  rose  from  the  ground,  and, 
stepping  over  his  father,  ran  silently  and  quickly 
away.  He  had  not  gone  more  than  a  hundred 
yards  when,  stopping  to  listen,  he  heard  the  bark- 
ing of  a  dog  which  belonged  to  the  guide,  accom- 
panied by  a  noise  in  the  bushes  behind  him  as  of 
men  in  pursuit.  Knowing  that  the  dog  would  cer- 
tainly track  and  overtake  him,  he  stopped  short 
and  climbed  a  tall  tree.  He  had  no  sooner  con- 
cealed himself  among  the  branches  than  the  dog 
came  up,  and  stopping  at  the  foot  of  the  tree,  ran 
around  it  several  times,  and  then  went  ahead.  Mr. 
McCullough  and  the  guide  appeared  a  few  moments 
later,  following  the  lead  of  the  dog,  and  cheering 
him  on.  They  hunted  for  the  boy  several  hours, 
and  then  returned,  very  much  dejected. 

After  a  sufficient  time  had  passed,  the  fugitive 
descended  from  his  place  of  concealment,  and  ran 
through  the  forest  until  he  came  to  the  road 
by  which  the  party  had  come  the  day  before, 


THE    CAPTIVITY    OF  JOHN    McCULLOUGH.  203 

when,  taking  his  course  in  the  direction  of  Ma- 
honing,  he  traveled  for  about  three  miles,  and  then, 
fearing  lest  he  should  be  devoured  by  the  wolves, 
which  kept  up  a  hideous  howling  all  around  him, 
and  several  of  which  brushed  past  him  as  he  jour- 
neyed along  the  road,  he  mounted  another  tree 
and  remained  in  its  branches  until  daybreak.  Re- 
suming his  flight,  he  soon  arrived  among  his  In- 
dian friends,  and  was  received  by  them  with  great 
delight,  being  congratulated  on  the  shrewdness 
which  he  had  displayed  in  escaping  from  his  watch- 
ful father,  and  assured  that  he  would  be  given  con- 
cealment and  protection.  A'  few  hours  afterward 
Mr.  McCullough  arrived  at  the  camp,  but  the  In- 
dians told  him  that  nothing  had  been  seen  of  the 
boy,  and  he  was  therefore  forced  to  make  the  jour- 
ney alone. 

During  the  next  few  years  young  McCullough 
grew  rapidly  in  strength  and  activity,  and,  though 
he  was  yet  a  mere  boy,  was  permitted  by  the  In- 
dian warriors  to  accompany  them  on  several  of 
their  hunting  excursions.  As  he  became  older,  he 
grew  more  thoughtful,  and,  though  he  still  loved 
the  freedom  and  excitement  of  his  adventurous 
life,  he  began  to  regret  that  he  had  sent  his 
father  home  in  disappointment.  Reflecting  on  the 
uninviting  character  of  his  future,  he  determined 
that,  if  another  opportunity  should  offer,  he  would 
take  advantage  of  it;  and  the  desire  of  return 
finally  took  such  strong  possession  of  his  mind 
that  he  resolved  to  seek  the  good  fortune  which 


2O4  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

he   hoped  was  in  store   for  him  rather  than  to  await 
it.     Circumstances  proved   favorable. 

In  the  fall  of  1764,  Colonel  Boquet  made  an 
expedition  against  the. Indian  tribes.  He  met  with 
complete  success.  A  large  body  of  savages  surren- 
dered at  discretion,  and  were  taken  to  Pittsburgh— 
the  name  given  by  the  English  to  Fort  Duquesne,- 
which  had  fallen  into  their  hands  some  years  be- 
fore— and  placed  in  confinement.  Among  the  pris- 
oners was  McCullough,  who,  thrown  once  more 
among  his  own  people,  easily  found  means  of  com- 
municating with  his  parents.  Arrangements  for  set- 
ting him  at-liberty  were  soon  effected,  and  he  re- 
turned home  in  December,  1 764,  after  an  absence  of 
eight  years,  four  months  and  sixteen  days. 


CAPTAIN  SAMUEL  BRADY. 


''PHIS  noted  spy  and  ranger  was  born  in  1758,  in 
1  the  town  of  Shippensburg,  Pennsylvania.  He 
was  of  Irish  extraction — his  grandfather,  Hugh  Brady, 
having  emigrated  to  America  early  in  the  eighteenth 
century.  His  father,  John  Brady,  fought  bravely  and 
with  distinction  in  the  French  and  Indian  war,  receiv- 
ing a  captain's  commission  as  a  reward  of  meritorious 
conduct ;  and  throughout  the  border  troubles  with  the 
Indians  he  rendered  active  and  very  efficient  service 
as  a  frontiersman  of  marked  courage,  and  as  a  scout 
of  enterprise  and  intrepidity. 

In  1775,  at  the  age  of  seventeen,  Samuel  Brady 
enlisted  in  a  volunteer  rifle  company,  commanded  by 
Captain  John  Lowden.  In  the  various  engagements 
of  the  Revolution,  in  which  he  participated,  he  bore, 
for  one  of  his  years,  a  most  conspicuous  part ;  and  it 
was  not  long  before  the  value  of  his  services  received 
substantial  recognition,  for  he  was  promptly  raised  to  a 
lieutenancy.  Promotion  followed  rapidly;  and,  before 
he  had  reached  the  age  of  twenty-one,  he  was  placed 
in  command  of  a  company  in  the  regiment  of  General 
Broadhead,  and  dispatched  for  duty  in  the  West. 
Soon  after  his  arrival  at  Pittsburgh,  in  April,  1779, 

he  received  the  news  of  the  murder  of  his  father  by  the 

(205) 


2O6  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

Indians.  A  few  months  before,  his  younger  brother, 
James  Brady,  had  been  cruelly  butchered.  The  deaths 
of  his  father  and  brother,  following  so  close  upon  one 
another,  and  occurring  under  circumstances  so  terrible, 
made  a  profound  impression  on  Samuel's  mind ;  and 
the  spirit  of  retaliation  was  so  deeply  aroused  within 
him,  that  he  took  a  solemn  oath  that  he  would  devote 
the  remainder  of  his  life  to  avenging  the  wrongs  of  his 
people,  and  waging  an  exterminating  warfare  against 
all  Indians. 

The  army  commanded  by  General  Broadhead,  quar- 
tered at  Pittsburgh,  was  intrusted  with  the  defense  of 
the  frontier.  The  country  to  the  north  and  west  of 
the  Alleghany  River  was  held  by  the  Indian  allies  ol 
the  British ;  and  as  it  was  highly  important  that  the 
enemy  should  not  be  permitted  to  come  beyond  the 
border,  General  Broadhead  found  it  necessary  to  send 
out  numerous  scouting  expeditions  to  watch  their 
movements,  and  obtain  information  respecting  their 
intentions. 

Early  in  1780,  he  received  instructions  from  Genera? 
Washington  to  dispatch  a  competent  officer  to  San- 
dusky,  with  orders  to  examine  that  place,  and  ascer- 
tain the  strength*  of  the  British  and  Indians  assem- 
bled there.  Without  waiting  to  consult  any  of  his 
aides,  General  Broadhead  summoned  Captain  Brady 
to  his  presence,  showed  him  Washington's  letter, 
gave  him  a  rough  chart  or  map  of  the  country,  and, 
commissioning  him  to  perform  the  service,  told  him 
to  select  the  men  whom  he  wished  to  accompany 
him,  and  be  off  without  delay. 


CAPTAIN  SAMUEL  BRADY.  2OJ 

Highly  gratified  at  the  confidence  reposed  in  him 
bv  his  superior  officer,  Brady  was  not  long  in  mak- 
ing his  preparations.  Choosing  a  number  of  soldiers 
for  his  companions,  and  selecting  four  Chickasaw  In- 
dians as  guides,  he  crossed  the  Alleghany  River,  and 
advanced  into  the  enemy's  country. 

Few  persons  can  have  an  adequate  idea  of  the 
dangers  incurred  by  the  early  adventurers.  To  lead 
an  expedition  against  the  fierce  and  warlike  savages, 
or  even  to  engage  in  such  an  expedition  under  a 
brave  and  tried  leader,  must,  indeed,  have  required 
a  bold  spirit.  Success,  when  once  achieved,  was  de- 
cisive, and  brought  its  certain  reward;  but  the  odds 
which  had  to  be  met  were  correspondingly  great. 
In  time  of  war,  the  Indians  were  constantly  on  the 
watch  for  intruders;  and  often  the  slightest  trace, 
such  as  an  unwary  movement,  or  the  print  of  a  white 
man's  foot  on  the  sand  of  a  river,  was  followed  by 
discovery  and  attack.  To  give  the  Indians  the  least 
advantage  was  to  invite  certain  death ;  for,  when 
once  alarmed  and  prepared,  nothing  could  surpass 
the  vigilance  of  the  savage  warriors,  or  the  skill 
with  which  they  laid  an  ambush,  and  carried  their 
offensive  plans  into  execution. 

Attired  in  the  full  war  dress  of  an  Indian,  and  well 
prepared  to  act  the  part  of  the  skillful  strategist, 
Brady  set  out  with  his  band  early  in  the  month  of 
May,  1780.  The  season  was  very  wet,  and  every 
stream  was  swollen  to  nearly  twice  its  ordinary  size. 
The  country  afforded  no  houses  for  shelter,  and  no 
roads  or  bridges  for  passage ;  and,  what  added  greatly 


208  THE  BACK-WOODSMEN, 

to  the  inconveniences  of  the  march,  the  chart  given 
to  Brady  by  General  Broadhead  was  so  defective 
that  the  party  several  times  lost  their  way.  The 
supplies  which  had  been  taken  were  inadequate,  and 
the  adventurers  were  obliged  to  depend  for  support, 
in  great  part,  upon  provisions  picked  up  on  the  way, 
while  they  crept,  rather  than  marched,  through  the 
wilderness  by  night,  lying  concealed  in  the  branches 
of  trees  by  day. 

After  a  journey  of  several  days,  the  party  arrived 
in  the  neighborhood  of  the  Sandusky  towns  without 
seeing  a  single  hostile  Indian.  Approaching  the  vil- 
lages, Brady  advanced  with  caution ;  for  he  knew  that 
the  savages  were  encamped  in  great  force,  and  that 
straggling  parties  were,  therefore,  to  be  met  at  almost 
every  turn. 

While  carefully  making  his  way  toward  the  Indian 
encampment,  Brady  suddenly  heard,  a  short  distance 
ahead  of  him,  the  sound  of  soft  voices.  Signaling 
his  men  to  halt,  he  went  forward  alone,  rifle  in  hand, 
to  make  observations.  He  soon  perceived  a  faint, 
glimmering  light;  and,  advancing  noiselessly  toward 
it,  discovered  two  squaws  sitting  by  the  embers  of  a 
camp-fire.  Too  brave  to  take  advantage  of  the  weak 
and  defenseless,  he  left  them  unharmed,  and  returned 
as  he  came. 

He  found  his  comrades  lying  quietly  where  he  had 
left  them;  but,  by  their  dark  looks,  and  sharp,  surly 
answers,  he  judged  that  some  unpleasant  incident 
had  occurred.  Concluding  that  they  were  dissatisfied 
with  something,  and  that  they  would  soon  make  their 


CAPTAIN  SAMUEL  BRADY.  2OQ 

troubles  known,  he  did  not  think  it  prudent  to  ques- 
tion them  too  closely ;  and,  sitting  down  unconcern- 
edly, busied  himself  in  putting  his  rifle  in  order. 
This  done,  he  commanded  them  to  hand  him  their 
powder-horns  and  pouches,  in  order  that  he  might 
divide  the  remaining  powder  and  ball  equally  among 
them. 

Instead  of  obeying  this  command,  the  men  looked 
at  each  other  for  a  moment  in  silence,  and  then, 
grasping  their  rifles,  flatly  refused.  Brady  demanded 
an  explanation,  when  one  of  the  soldiers,  acting  as 
the  spokesman  of  his  comrades,  asked  him  whether 
he  had  seen  or  heard  any  thing  of  the  Chickasaw 
guides ;  and  told  him,  if  he  had  not,  that  he  would 
probably  see  or  hear  of  them  shortly,  and  in  a  man- 
ner not  much  to  his  liking.  He  then  informed  his 
leader  that,  while  he  had  been  absent  reconnoitering 
the  camp,  the  Indians  had  stolen  away,  taking  with 
them  all  of  the  remaining  provisions.  It  was  now 
evident,  he  said,  that  the  treacherous  guides  had 
gone  over  to  the  enemy;  and  that,  in  the  course  of 
a  very  short  time,  they  would  lead  an  overwhelming 
force  to  the  place  of  concealment,  when  death  or 
capture  would  be  inevitable.  He  added,  that  the 
only  recourse  of  the  party  was  to  retire  as  rapidly 
as  the  darkness  of  the  night  would  permit ;  and  de- 
clared that  he  and  his  comrades  had  resolved  upon 
immediate  flight,  whatever  might  be  the  determina- 
tion of  their  leader. 

When  he  had  finished  speaking,  Brady  very  calmly 
asked  him  what  preparations  had  been  made  for  the 


2TO  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

journey.  For  his  part,  he  said,  he  was  in  a  much 
better  plight  to  meet  hostile  Indians  than  to  brave 
starvation  in  the  wilderness;  and  then,  taking  his 
powder-horn  from  his  belt,  he  handed  it  to  one  of 
the  men,  requesting  him  to  turn  it  upside  down, 
and  see  how  much  powder  it  contained.  An  ex- 
amination proved  that  there  was  not  a  grain  left; 
and  Brady  informed  his  companions  that  the  last 
charge  was  in  his  rifle.  But,  he  added,  with  an 
oath,  instead  of  keeping  his  last  shot  for  defending 
himself  from  the  Indians,  he  would  use  it  for  main- 
taining his  authority;  and,  raising  the  gun  to  his 
shoulder,  he  asked  them  whether  they  preferred  that 
he  should  discharge  it  at  one  of  them,  or  that  he 
should  wait  until  necessity  demanded  that  he  should 
employ  it  for  his  own  and  their  protection. 

This  signal  instance  of  resolution  on  the  part  of 
their  leader  put  the  men  to  confusion  and  shame: 
and,  signifying  their  acquiescence,  they  told  him  that 
they  were  content,  and  would  follow  wherever  he 
might  lead.  Brady  commended  their  devotion ;  and, 
selecting  one  man  to  accompany  him,  he  concealed 
the  rest  in  a  ravine  which  afforded  good  means  of 
protection  from  an  attacking  force,  and  then  set  out 
toward  the  villages  to  accomplish  the  object  of  his 
enterprise.  He  reached  the  river,  waded  it  to  a 
small  island  opposite  the  town,  and,  hiding  himself 
with  his  comrade  in  some  thick  bushes,  waited  anx- 
iously for  morning. 

The  day  dawned  with  a  heavy  fog  which  obscured 
every  thing  but  objects  immediately  at  hand.  It  did 


CAPTAIN    SAMUEL    BRADY.  2  I  I 

not  clear  off  until  about  noon,  when  the  sun  suddenly 
came  out  very  bright,  revealing  the  whole  position 
of  the  enemy,  which  was  so  conspicuous  and  open 
that  the  spies  had  every  opportunity  of  making  ob- 
servations. 

The  Indians  numbered  about  three  thousand,  and 
had  just  returned  from  an  expedition  into  Kentucky 
or  Virginia.  They  had  captured  a  great  many  horses, 
and  were  very  gay  and  frolicsome,  riding  the  ani- 
mals at  full  speed  over  a  long  race  course.  The 
antics  of  the  Indians  afforded  Brady  and  his  compan- 
ion a  great  deal  of  amusement;  and,  from  the  good 
humor  in  which  they  appeared  to  be,  it  was  evident 
that  they  had  received  as  yet  no  information  of  the 
presence  of  an  enemy  in  the  neighborhood,  and  con- 
sequently that  the  Chickasaw  guides  had  deserted 
from  some  other  motive  than  that  of  treachery. 

Leaving  the  island  in  the  evening,  Brady  waded 
to  the  shore,  and  lost  no  time  in  rejoining  his  com- 
panions. Before  setting  out  on  his  return  march,  he 
determined  to  make  another  visit  to  the  camp  which 
he  had  observed  the  night  before.  Taking  with  him 
two  of  his  men,  he  approached  it  slowly  and  cau- 
tiously. He  found  the  two  squaws  still  there ;  and, 
rushing  suddenly  toward  them  with  his  tomahawk 
raised,  he  compelled  them  to  surrender,  bound  them, 
and,  returning  to  his  comrades,  gave  the  word  to 
proceed. 

As  the  Chickasaws  had  stolen  all  of  the  provisions, 
the  adventurers  were  reduced  to  great  extremities 
from  hunger.  Their  ammunition  was  nearly  ex- 


212  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

hausted,  and  they  consequently  could  not  spare  much 
for  shooting  at  game.  As  Brady  was  the  best  marks- 
man of  the  company,  his  comrades,  by  mutual  con- 
sent, left  the  hunting  to  him.  He  succeeded  in  kill- 
ing an  otter,  but  its  flesh  was  so  tough  and  unwhole- 
some that  it  could  not  be  eaten.  For  many  days 
they  subsisted  almost  entirely  on  strawberries.  Jour-% 
neying  on,  they  finally  came  to  a  country  where  neither 
game  nor  fruit  was  to  be  found.  The  powder-horns 
were  by  this  time  entirely  empty,  and  there  was  only 
one  of  the  party  whose  gun  was  charged.  By  the 
unanimous  voice  of  the  men,  the  loaded  rifle  was 
given  to  Brady,  and  the  forlorn  march  was  resumed. 

While  casting  their  eyes  around,  looking  for  some 
trace  of  game,  Brady  discovered,  to  his  great  joy, 
the  track  of  a  deer.  Leaving  his  companions,  he 
followed  it,  thinking,  from  its  freshness,  that  he  would 
not  have  to  go  far  before  he  should  overtake  the 
animal.  Suddenly  he  heard  a  slight  noise  in  the 
bushes,  and  a  large  rabbit  crossed  his  path.  He 
might  easily  have  killed  it,  and  satisfied  his  own  hun- 
ger, but  he  knew  that  it  would  furnish  but  a  poor 
meal  for  his  famished  companions,  and  he  therefore 
permitted  it  to  pass.  Continuing  to  follow  the  track, 
he  soon  came  in  sight  of  the  deer.  He  raised  his 
rifle,  and  pulled  the  trigger;  but,  to  his  intense  dis- 
appointment, the  powder  flashed  in  the  pan,  and  im- 
mediately after  the  deer  bounded  off. 

Brady  now  sat  down  and  picked  the  touch-hole  of 
his  gun.  This  done,  he  arose  and  started  on,  to  pur- 
sue the  animal,  and,  if  possible,  get  another  shot; 


CAPTAIN  SAMUEL  BRADY.  213 

but,  before  he  had  gone  far,  lie  heard  the  tramp  of 
a  horse,  and  the  sound  of  voices,  and,  concealing 
himself  in  the  underwood,  he  soon  discovered  a  party 
of  Indians  approaching  along  the  path.  They  were 
led  by  a  tall,  powerful  savage  on  horseback,  who 
carried  a  white  child  in  his  arms.  A  woman,  evi- 
dently the  child's  mother,  sat  behind  him.  The  war- 
riors, about  ten  in  number,  were  all  completely  armed, 
and  were  doubtless  returning  from  some  hostile  ex- 
pedition, for  they  had  several  scalps,  and  carried  a 
quantity  of  provisions. 

Once  more  examining  his  rifle,  Brady  paused  a 
moment  to  deliberate ;  and  then,  advancing  to  the 
edge  of  the  bushes,  waited  for  the  Indians  to  come 
up.  His  purpose  was  to  lie  concealed  until  the 
party  had  passed,  shoot  the  hindmost  savage,  se- 
cure his  ammunition;  and  then,  before  the  rest  of 
the  warriors  could  recover  from  their  surprise,  make 
off  through  the  forest,  and  rejoin  his  comrades.  But, 
while  he  lay  in  wait  for  his  enemies,  carefully  watch- 
ing their  movements,  and  studying  the  situation,  he 
discovered  that  the  woman  on  horseback  had  been 
most  brutally  used  by  her  savage  captors.  Her  face 
was  cruelly  scratched,  her  dress  was  torn  in  shreds, 
and  one  of  her  arms  hung  limp  and  powerless,  evi- 
dently from  the  effect  of  a  blow.  Brady's  sympathies 
were  excited;  and,  forgetting  his  own  danger  in  his 
desire  to  alleviate  the  sufferings  of  a  fellow-creature, 
he  resolved  to  use  his  best  endeavors  to'  free  the 
captive. 

When  the  Indian  on  horseback  had  come  within  a 
13 


214  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

few  rods,  Brady  leveled  his  rifle,  and  touched  the 
trigger,  ready  to  shoot.  He  was  about  to  let  the 
hammer  fall,  when  the  Indian,  catching  up  the  child, 
which  had  dropped  asleep,  shook  it  violently,  bid- 
ding it  to  wake  up.  The  agitation  caused  by  this 
act  destroyed  Brady's  aim;  and,  before  he  could 
take  another,  the  horse  had  passed,  and  the  form 
of  the  woman  was  thrown  between  him  and  the 
savage.  Gliding  silently  from  his  hiding-place,  he 
ran  swiftly  ahead,  and  again  concealed  himself.  As 
he  did  so,  one  of  the  warriors,  who  was  more  alert 
than  his  companions,  suddenly  stopped ;  and,  step- 
ping cautiously  to  the  bushes,  carefully  examined 
them,  in  order  to  ascertain  whether  they  contained 
a  lurking  foe.  He  returned  to  his  comrades  appar- 
ently satisfied,  merely  saying  that  he  had  heard  a 
rustling  in  the  leaves,  but  that  it  was  only  a  squirrel 
or  rabbit. 

As  his  enemy  approached,  Brady  again  raised  his 
gun  and  took  a  careful  aim.  He  fired,  and  the  In- 
dian dropped  dead  from  the  horse,  the  mother  and 
child  falling  with  him.  Instantly  springing  forward, 
Brady  uttered  a  terrible  yell ;  and  to  deceive  the 
warriors  with  regard  to  the  strength  of  his  party, 
waved  his  tomahawk  over  his  head  and  shouted  to 
his  comrades  to  surround  the  enemy  and  take  them 
prisoners.  The  Indians  were  thrown  into  the  direst 
confusion,  and,  dashing  their  arms  to  the  ground, 
stood  huddled  together,  waiting  for  the  appearance 
of  their  foe,  and  begging  for  quarter.  In  an  instant 
Brady  had  reached  the  fallen  Indian.  Seizing  his 


CAPTAIN    SAMUEL    BRADY.  215 

powder-horn,  he  tugged  vigorously  at  it,  but,  in  spite 
of  all  his  exertions,  it  would  not  come  off.  His  next 
care  was  to  rescue  the  mother  and  child,  but,  as  he 
was  dressed  as  an  Indian,  the  former  at  first  mis- 
trusted his  motive,  and  asked  him  reproachfully  why 
he  had  shot  his  brother.  This  inquiry  he  answered 
by  another  yell  to  his  men,  exclaiming  that  he 
was  Captain  Brady,  and  that  he  would  rescue  her  if 
she  would  follow  him.  He  seized  the  woman's  hand, 
caught  up  the  infant,  and  ran  swiftly  away.  The 
brief  delay,  caused  by  his  efforts  to  detach  the  pow- 
der-horn of  the  Indian,  enabled  the  warriors  to  re- 
cover, in  a  degree,  from  their  confusion,  and,  picking 
up  their  rifles,  they  fired  a  volley  at  the  fugitive. 
But,  as  most  of  the  shots  were  discharged  at  random, 
they  fortunately  had  no  effect,  and  Brady  was  soon 
out  of  range.  As  the  Indians  dreaded  an  ambus- 
cade, they  did  not  pursue  him ;  and,  making  the  best 
of  his  escape,  he  arrived  the  next  day  with  the  woman 
and  child  at  Fort  Mclntosh,  a  post  some  distance  in 
advance.  Here  he  found  his  men,  who,  hearing  his 
whoop,  and  knowing  that  he  had  engaged  a  party  of 
Indians,  had  made  off,  fearful  that,  if  they  remained, 
they  would  be  massacred,  for  they  had  no  ammuni- 
tion, and  were  totally  defenseless.  Brady  was  far 
from  pleased  at  the  conduct  of  his  men,  but  his  dis- 
pleasure was  increased  to  wrath  when,  inquiring  for 
the  two  squaws  whom  he  had  left  with  them,  he  was 
told  mat  they  had  stolen  off  in  the  panic,  and  made 
their  escape.  Thoroughly  disgusted,  Brady  told 
them  that  they  were  a  lot  of  d — d  cowardly  fellows, 


2l6  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

•• 

and  tauntingly  told  them  to  remain  where  they  were, 
while  he  returned  to  Pittsburgh  and  dispatched  a 
guard  to  bring  them  home ;  but,  after  awhile  his 
mood  changed,  and  he  begged  their  pardon  for  his 
ungenerous  language,  giving  them  credit  for  their 
faithfulness  and  bravery  under  trying  circumstances, 
arid  assuring  them  that  he  would  render  a  favorable 

o 

report  of  them  to  General  Broadhead. 

After  resting  for  a  few  days  at  the  fort,  Brady  re- 
turned by  water  with  his  men  to  Pittsburgh.  He  was 
received  with  military  honor.  Minute-guns  were 
fired  from  the  time  he  came  in  sight  until  he  landed, 
and  he  was  conducted  to  head-quarters  by  a  military 
escort.  General  Broadhead  complimented  him  highly 
on  his  success.  He  informed  him  that  the  Chicka- 
saw  Indians  had  returned  to  camp  with  the  report  that 
the  party  had  heen  cut  off,  and  every  man  murdered. 
The  General  added  that,  on  receiving  this  informa- 
tion, he  had  done  him  great  injustice,  saying  that 
he  was  an  aspiring  young  man,  and  had  solicited 
'the  command;  but  he  now  made  full  reparation, 
and  acknowledged  to  his  officers  that  the  Captain 
had  accepted  the  commission  with  great  diffidence. 

About  a  week  after  Brady's  return  from  Sandusky 
intelligence  v/as  received  that  the  Indians  were  gath- 
ering at  a  point  on  the  Alleghany  River,  with  the  in- 
tention, as  it  was  supposed,  of  marching  against  the 
settlements  on  the  Susquehanna.  In  order  to  obtain 
definite  information  regarding  their  strength  and  pur- 
poses, Brady  was  dispatched,  with  a  companion  named 
Phouts,  to  reconnoiter  their  position,  and,  if  possible, 


CAPTAIN  SAMUEL  BRADY.  217 

• 

bring  in  a  prisoner.  Setting-  out  about  two  hours 
before  daybreak,  the  two  men  took  the  road  through 
the  wilderness,  and,  marching  without  stoppage,  came, 
toward  the  close  of  the  next  day,  to  a  small  creek, 
where  they  determined  to  encamp  for  the  night. 
They  halted  and  built  a  fire.  Covering  it  with  wet 
leaves  and  brush,  in  order  to  keep  it  in,  they  took 
their  rifles  and  went  out  to  hunt.  In  a  short  time 
they  came  to  the  mouth  of  a  run,  on  the  banks  of 
which  there  was  a  lick  apparently  much  frequented 
by  deer,  and,  placing  themselves  in  readiness,  they 
waited  patiently  for  the  animals  to  come  in  to  drink. 
Their  watchfulness  was  soon  rewarded.  In  a  few  mo- 
ments two  deer  came  to  the  lick.  One  of  them  was  shot 
and  quickly  skinned  and  quartered.  The  flesh  was 
carried  to  the  fire  and  "jerked,"  and  in  the  morning 
a  sufficient  quantity  of  the  meat  was  shouldered,  the 
remainder  was  hung  up  on  a  tree,  and  the  journey 
was  resumed. 

Towards  evening  of  the  second  day,  Brady  discov- 
ered a  number  of  crows  hovering  over  the  tops  of  the 
trees  near  the  bank  of  the  river.  Telling  his  com- 
panion that  he  suspected  that  there  were  Indians  in 
the  neighborhood,  he  halted  to  prepare  for  a  recon- 
noissance. 

Although  Phouts  was  anxious  to  go  at  once  and 
ascertain  whether  the  conjecture  was  well-founded, 
Brady  restrained  him,  saying  that  such  a  step  would 
be  very  imprudent,  and  telling  him  that  the  best  pol- 
icy would  be  to  hide  themselves  until  dark,  when,  if 
there  were  really  Indians  in  the  neighborhood,  their 


2l8  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

position  would  be  indicated  by,their  camp-fires.  They 
accordingly  concealed  themselves  until  about  ten 
o'clock,  when  they  ventured  from  their  hiding-places 
to  make  observations. 

Walking  cautiously  toward  the  river  bank,  they 
soon  discovered  a  twinkling  light  at  the  distance  of  a 
few  hundred  yards.  Whispering  his  companion  to 
remain  where  he  was,  Brady  started  towards  it,  but 
Phouts  instantly  rejoined  him,  saying  that  it  would 
not  be  wise  to  part  company,  since,  from'  appearances, 
the  enemy  was  encamped  in  force. 

Making  their  way  with  all  care,  Brady  and  Phouts 
soon  came  close  to  the  fire.  Greatly  to  their  sur- 
prise they  found  it  was  the  camp,  not  of  a  war-party, 
but  of  a  single  old  Indian,  who  was  sitting  beside  a 
tree  mending  a  pair  of  moccasins. 

At  this  discovery,  Phouts,  who  thought  more  of 
blood  and  scalps  than  of  policy  or  consequences,  gave 
a  low  chuckle,  and,  raising  his  rifle,  prepared  to  shoot. 
Brady,  perceiving  his  design  just  in  time,  seized  him 
by  the  throat  and  swore  that,  unless  he  desisted,  he 
would  choke  him  to  death  instantly.  He  then  made 
a  circuit  of  the  camp,  and,  rejoining  his  comrade,  set 
out  to  return,  motioning  him  to  follow.  Phouts 
obeyed,  though  with  great  reluctance,  for  he  was  still 
bent  on  murdering  the  old  Indian. 

When  they  had  gone  about  a  hundred  yards  from 
the  camp,  Brady  stopped  and  told  his  companion  that 
he  judged  that  the  fire  had  been  made  by  a  band  of 
Indians  who  had  departed  on  some  warlike  expedi- 
tion, leaving  the  old  man  in  charge.  He  said  that  he 


CAPTAIN  SAMUEL  BRADY.  219 

supposed  they  would  come  back  soon,  and,  therefore, 
that  it  would  be  best  to  lie  concealed  until  morning. 
If  they  did  not  return  by  that  time  the  camp  should 
be  visited  again,  and  the  old  Indian  disposed  of. 

They  accordingly  climbed  a  tree  and  waited  for  the 
approach  of  day.  When  the  first  streak  appeared  in 
the  East  they  descended  and  went  to  the  fire.  The 
old  man  was  still  there.  He  lay  on  his  back  fast 
asleep.  There  was  no  trace  to  indicate  that  any  of 
the  band  had  returned  or  were  in  the  neighbor- 
hood, for  his  only  companions  were  a  dog  and  a 
horse. 

Wishing  to  see  the  country  around  the  camp,  and 
understand  its  features  better,  Brady  made  a  quick 
examination  of  it.  He  found,  a  short  distance  up 
the  river,  a  large  trail,  and,  from  its  freshness,  he 
concluded  that  the  Indians  had  gone  up  the  Alle- 
ghany  a  few  days  before  on  some  warlike  enterprise. 

The  two  spies  now  returned  to  the  camp.  The 
Indian  was  found,  as  before,  lying  on  his  back. 
Phouts  again  raised  his  gun,  but  Brady  again  re- 
strained him,  saying  that  the  old  man  should  not  be 
harmed,  since  he  would  make  a  good  prisoner.  He 
ordered  his  comrade  to  remain  where  he  was,  and 
not  to  fire  unless  the  Indian's  dog  should  show  fight, 
in  which  case  he  was  to  shoot  the  dog. 

When  every  thing  was  arranged,  Brady  dropped 
his  rifle,  and,  with  his  tomahawk  lifted  in  the  air, 
crept  toward  the  sleeping  savage.  Arrived  within 
a  few  feet,  he  made  a  sudden  bound,  and,  with  a 
yell  which  echoed  in  the  distance,  grasped  his  enemy 


22O  THE   BACK-WOODSMEN. 

by  the  throat,  at  the  same  time  planting  his  knee 
firmly  on  his  breast.  Resistance  was  useless,  and 
the  Indian  quietly  surrendered.  His  dog  was  equally 
tractable,  and  Phouts  came  forward  to  bind  the  pris- 
oner with  a  very  woe-begone  look,  inwardly  re- 
proaching himself  for  not  having  followed  his  own 
impulse,  and  shot  the  Indian  where  he  lay. 

When  the  savage  was  told  that  he  was  to  be 
taken  to  Pittsburgh,  and  would  be  kindly  used,  he 
went  to  a  clump  of  bushes  and  drew  out  a  canoe. 
The  party  then  embarked,  and  paddled,  without 
stopping,  until  they  came  to  the  mouth  of  the  creek 
on  which  they  had  encamped  the  night  before,  when 
they  landed,  made  a  fire,  and  lay  down  to  sleep. 

In  the  morning,  Captain  Brady,  leaving  the  pris< 
oner  with  Phouts,  went  up  the  creek,  intending  to 
secure  the  pieces  of  jerked  deer's  meat  which  had 
been  left  hanging  on  the  trees.  He  had  not  been 
gone  five  minutes  when  he  heard  a  murderous  yell, 
followed  instantly  by  the  loud  report  of  a  rifle.  His 
first  thought  was,  that  his  friend  had  been  shot  at, 
and,  perhaps,  killed  by  some  lurking  savage  ;  and 
he  accordingly  turned  round  and  went  back,  de- 
termined to  wreak  vengeance  on  the  attacking 
party. 

Peering  cautiously  from  behind  the  trees,  Brady 
saw,  to  his  surprise  and  unspeakable  disgust,  that 
his  comrade  had  taken  advantage  of  his  absence  to 
shoot  the  prisoner,  and  was  now  sitting  composedly 
on  his  dead  body.  The  Captain  instantly  came 
from  his  hiding-place,  and  stalking  up  to  the  place 


CAPTAIN  SAMUEL  BRADY.  221 

where  he  was  sitting,  asked  him  in  language  more 
expressive  than  choice,  what  he  had  done.  Phouts 
looked  up  mildly,  and,  showing  a  hole  in  his  bullet- 
pouch  belt,  which  had  evidently  been  made  by  a  rifle- 
ball,  said  that  he  had  just  had  a  very  narrow  escape, 
and  then  related  the  story  of  his  adventure. 

The  old  Indian  had,  during  the  voyage  and  through 
the  night,  behaved  himself  with  such  decency  and  qui- 
etude, and  had  appeared  so  perfectly  harmless  in  dispo- 
sition, that  Phouts  had  given  him  his  entire  confidence, 
and  instead  of  growing  more  vigilant  with  each  new 
instance  of  the  prisoner's  extreme  humility,  had  be- 
come more  and  more  disposed  to  extend  him  privi- 
leges. The  Indian  had  noticed  the  friendly  and  good- 
natured  disposition  of  his  captor;  and,  craftily  laying 
his  plans,  he  determined  to  take  the  first  opportunity 
of  making  it  work  to  his  advantage. 

Immediately  after  Brady's  departure,  the  savage, 
heaving  a  deep  sigh,  complained  bitterly  of  the  pain 
which  he  suffered  from  the  tightness  of  the  cords  on 
his  wrists,  and  requested  Phouts  to  loosen  them,  or, 
if  he  would  be  so  good,  to  take  them  off  altogether 
for  a  minute  or  two.  This  request  was  granted  with 
alacrity.  The  old  man  very  gratefully  returned  his 
thanks;  and,  sitting  down  on  the  ground,  meekly 
folded  his  hands,  watching  Phouts  as  he  busied  him- 
self preparing  breakfast.  The  latter  kept  an  eye  on 
the  prisoner  for  a  few  moments ;  but,  seeing  that  he 
made  no  suspicious  movements,  and  evidently  had  no 
other  feeling  than  that  of  the  liveliest  gratitude,  he 
did  not  regard  it  necessary  to  keep  a  constant  watch, 


222  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

and  so  continued  his  work  with  very  little  concern  for 
any  thing  else. 

While  piling  a  heap  of  wood  on  the  fire,  Phouts 
suddenly  heard  the  sharp  click  of  a  rifle ;  and  wheel- 
ing, as  by  instinct,  he  saw  the  innocent  and  humble 
old  Indian  standing  by  a  tree,  with  the  gun  raised 
and  pointed,  ready  to  fire.  Dodging  to  one  side, 
Phouts  drew  his  tomahawk ;  and,  giving  a  loud 
whoop,  made  a  rush  at  his  enemy.  The  savage 
fired,  and  the  ball  passed  through  his  assailant's 
belt,  doing  no  further  harm.  Instantly  the  white 
man's  tomahawk  accomplished  its  work,  and  the  In- 
dian sank  to  the  ground  lifeless. 

Taking  the  dead  man's  scalp,  Brady  and  his  com- 
rade embarked,  and  resumed  the  voyage  to  Pitts- 
burgh. They  arrived  safely;  and  the  Captain,  in- 
forming the  General  of  what  he  had  done,  advised 
him  of  the  departure  of  the  warriors  up  the  Alle- 
ghany  on  their  expedition  against  the  Susquehanna 
settlements.  He  favored  dispatching  a  force  to  over- 
take them ;  his  counsel  was  accepted,  and  a  large 
band  was  sent  out  forthwith.  The  enterprise  was 
successful,  and  the  Indians  were  thwarted  in  their 
design. 

The  success  of  Captain  Brady  in  his  scouting  en- 
terprises made  his  services  very  valuable,  and  he  ,was 
never  detached  to  perform  duty  except  on  occasions 
of  the  greatest  moment.  No  particular  region  of 
country  was  assigned  him  ;  nevertheless,  he  was  often 
sent, — especially  at  very  dangerous  times, — to  ex- 
amine and  re-examine  ground  which  he  had  already 


CAPTAIN    SAMUEL    BRADY.  223 

explored ;  and  the  Indians,  seeing  that  his  visits  had 
in  this  way  come  to  be  almost  periodical,  carefully 
studied  his  movements,  determined  to  entrap  him,  if 
possible.  Two  or  three  times,  he  came  very  near 
being  drawn  into  Indian  ambuscades;  and  prob- 
ably no  m5n  ever  had  so  many  hair-breadth  escapes 
from  capture. 

On  one  occasion,  Captain  Brady  was  dispatched 
to  examine  a  strip  of  country  which,  from  the  great 
numbers  and  the  savage  character  of  the  hostile 
bands  which  occupied  it,  was  regarded  by  General 
Broadhead  as  peculiarly  dangerous.  Brady  returned 
from  his  mission  with  complete  success ;  and,  as  a 
great  deal  depended  upon  keeping  this  dangerous 
territory  under  constant  watch,  he  was  frequently 
sent  to  it  afterward. 

One  day,  while  marching  through  a  thickly-wooded 
and  very  rocky  part  of  the  country,  along  the  banks 
of  the  Beaver  River,  he  struck,  toward  evening,  a 
fresh  trail,  evidently  made  a  few  hours  before  by  a 
large  war-party.  He  followed  it  with  all  speed  until 
dark;  and,  starting  betimes  the  next  morning,  he 
had  the  good  fortune  to  overtake  the  warriors  while 
they  were  seated  around  their  fires  eating  breakfast. 

Brady's  party  numbered  five  men.  The  strength 
of  the  Indians  was  at  least  six  times  as  great;  but, 
without  the  slightest  hesitation,  the  brave  leader  of 
the  spies  determined  to  attack  them,  and  depend  on 
the  courage  of  his  men  and  the  advantages  of  his  posi- 
tion for  victory.  He  accordingly  posted  his  comrades, 
and,  giving  the  signal  of  attack,  fired.  Instantly  three 


224  THE   BACK-WOODSMEN. 

Indians  dropped  dead;  and,  in  the  midst  of  the  con- 
fusion which  followed  in  the  camp,  the  spies  reversed 
their  guns,  and  prepared  to  reload  for  another  volley. 

Just  as  Brady  was  emptying  the  powder  into  the 
muzzle  of  his  gun,  one  of  his  men  gave  a  quick 
warning  cry;  and,  before  he  had  time  to  apprehend 
its  meaning,  or  give  orders,  a  dozen  rifles  opened 
fire  from  the  rear  on  him  and  his  companions.  Two 
of  the  rangers  dropped  lifeless,  and  Brady  himself 
narrowly  escaped — his  tomahawk  being  shot  from  his 
belt.  The  men  who  survived  sprang  to  their  feet, 
and  placed  themselves  on  the  defensive  just  in  time 
to  see  a  band  of  savages  emerge  from  cover  in  the 
rear,  and,  with  their  tomahawks  raised,  advance  at 
full  speed  to  attack  them,  and  intercept  their  flight. 

Captain  Brady  now  realized  the  peril  of  his  situa- 
tion. It  was  evident  that  a  trap  had  been  laid  for 
him,  and  that  he  had  been  enticed  to  pursue  the  first 
party  in  order  that  the  second  might  pursue  him ; 
and,  while  he  was  laying  his  plans  of  attack,  sur- 
round his  band,  and  so  render  capture  or  extermina- 
tion inevitable.  He  was  between  two  fires;  and,  as 
he  had  every  reason  to  believe,  was  completely  hem- 
med in  on  all  sides.  Resistance  would  have  been 
fool-hardy,  for  the  most  fearful  odds  were  to  be  en- 
countered. Flight  seemed  to  be  equally  out  of  the 
question,  since  the  Indians  were  as  eager  to  capture 
the  spies  as  they  were  to  escape.  Surrender  could 
not  be  entertained  for  a  moment;  for  these  brave 
men  could  not  endure  the  thought  of  captivity  and 
torture,  regarding  instant  death  as  far  preferable. 


CAPTAIN    SAMUEL    BRADY.  225 

Without  waiting  a  second  to  deliberate,  Brady,  car- 
rying his  empty  rifle  in  his  left  hand,  and  flourishing 
his  knife  in  his  right,  dashed  off  in  the  direction  of  a 
small  creek  which  flowed  through  a  chasm  a  short 
distance  beyond.  Seeing  his  purpose,  both  bodies 
of  savages  raised  a  shout  of  exultation,  for  they  knew 
that  his  capture  was  now  as  good  as  accomplished ; 
since,  on  reaching  the  creek,  he  would  be  obliged  to 
turn  round  and  look  for  some  other  avenue  of  escape, 
as  its  bank  was  in  no  place  less  than  twenty-five  feet 
in  height,  and  as  he  could  not,  therefore,  venture  a 
leap  without,  as  they  thought,  certain  death.  Throw- 
ing down  their  rifles,  and  brandishing  their  tomahawks, 
the  whole  band  started  in  hot  pursuit,  entirely  disre- 
garding, in  their  eagerness  to  secure  their  arch-foe, 
Brady's  three  companions,  who  accordingly  made 
good  their  escape. 

As  Brady  rushed  forward,  an  Indian,  who  lay  in 
wait  for  him  behind  a  tree,  attempted  to  bar  his 
progress ;  but  a  dexterous  thrust  from  the  knife  of  the 
brave  spy  compelled  him  to  give  over  his  design,  and 
laid  him  bleeding  on  the  ground.  A  few  yards  further 
on,  a  second  savage  emerged  from  behind  a  tree,  and 
struck  at  the  fugitive  with  his  tomahawk;  but,  as 
Brady  had  espied  the  fellow,  he  was  prepared  for  him, 
and  easily  .dodged  the  blow.  Making  straight  for  the 
bank,  he  was  not  slow  to  comprehend  that  the  inten- 
tion of  his  enemies  was  to  surround  him  while  he 
paused  on  the  brink  of  the  chasm,  and  there  bring 
him  to  bay ;  and,  determined  that  he  would  never  be 
made  a  captive  by  the  Indians,  he  boldly  resolved  to 


THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

plunge  directly  over  the  bank,  and  trust  to  fortune  for 
the  rest.  Rushing  forward  with  the  greatest  impetu- 
osity, he  reached  the  creek  at  the  most  precipitous 
point  of  its  bank;  and,  leaping  without  the  slightest 
hesitation,  he  cleared  the  stream,  and  was  soon  safe 
on  the  opposite  side.  The  Indians  set  up  a  cry  of 
mingled  despair  and  admiration,  but  still  continued 
to  flock  to  the  bank.  Without  stopping  to  breathe, 
Brady  drew  his  ramrod,  and  commenced  to  charge 
his  rifle,  determined,  before  seeking  a  place  of  safety, 
to  exchange  a  shot  with  his  enemies.  But,  before  he 
had  finished  loading,  a  tall,  powerful  savage,  who  had 
been  foremost  in  the  pursuit,  appeared  above.  Know- 
ing that  he  had  Brady  in  his  power,  he  deliberately 
raised  and  aimed  his  rifle ;  but  in  a  moment  he  let  the 
muzzle  fall,  evidently  hesitating  to  take  so  cowardly 
an  advantage.  He  raised  it  a  second  time,  and  a  sec- 
ond time  hesitated, — until  finally,  generous  motives 
prevailing  over  brutal  instincts,  he  planted  the  stock 
on  the  ground,  and  expressed  his  approval  by  exclaim- 
ing, in  a  loud  voice  and  tolerable  English:  "Blady 
make  good  jump!"  Immediately  after,  he  turned 
round  and  ran  away,  while  Brady  coolly  finished  load- 
ing his  piece,  and  then  resumed  his  flight.  Repairing 
to  a  place  which  had  been  appointed  as  the  rendez- 
vous in  case  of  separation,  he  found  his  three  sur- 
viving companions.  The  party  at  once  took  up  the 
homeward  march,  and  arrived  soon  afterward  safely 
at  Pittsburgh. 

In   this    connection,   the    following   tribute  to  the 
bravery  and  daring  of  Captain  Brady,  and  the  repu- 


BKADY'S   JUMP.  „ 


OLD  FRONTIER  FORT. 


CAPTAIN    SAMUEL    BRADV. 

tation  which  he  achieved  by  his  remarkable  perform- 
ances, written  by  a  well-known  local  historian,  may  be 
of  interest  to  our  readers: 

"Beaver  Valley,"  he  says,  "was  the  scene  of  many 
of  Captain  Brady's  stirring  adventures.  We  have 
recently  visited  some  of  the  interesting  localities,  cele- 
brated as  Brady's  theater  of  action,  and  heard  from 
many  of  the  old  citizens  their  accounts  of  his  thrilling 
exploits.  They  speak  in  unbounded  terms  of  admira- 
tion of  his  daring  and  success;  his  many  hair-breadth 
escapes  '  by  field  and  flood ' ;  and  always  concluded 
by  declaring  that  he  was  a  greater  man  than  Daniel 
Boone  or  Lewis  Weitzel,  either  of  whom,  in  the  eyes 
of  the  old  pioneers,  was  the  very  embodiment  of  dare- 
devilism." 

The  following  brief  account  of  incidents  in  the  life 
of  Captain  Brady,  while  scouting  in  the  Beaver  Val- 
ley, is  by  the  same  waiter: 

"  On  one  of  their  scouting  expeditions  into  the 
Indian  country,  the  spies,  consisting  at  that  time  of 
sixteen  men,  encamped  for  the  night  at  a  place  called 
'  Big  Shell  Camp.'  Toward  morning,  one  of  the 
guard  heard  the  report  of  a  gun ;  and,  immediately 
communicating  the  fact  to  his  commander,  a  change 
of  position  was  ordered.  Leading  his  men  to  an 
elevated  point,  the  Indian  camp  was  discovered  almost 
beneath  them.  Cautiously  advancing  in  the  direction 
of  the  camp,  six  Indians  were  discovered  standing 
around  the  fire,  while  others  lay  on  the  ground,  ap- 
parently asleep.  Brady  ordered  his  men  to  wrap 
themselves  in  their  blankets  and  lie  down,  while  he 


230  THE   BACK-WOODSMEN. 

kept  watch.  Two  hours  thus  passed  without  any 
thing  material  occurring.  As  day  began  to  appear, 
Brady  roused  his  men,  and  posted  them  side  by  side, 
himself  at  the  end  of  the  line.  When  all  were  in 
readiness,  the  commander  was  to  touch,  with  his 
elbow,  the  man  who  stood  next  to  him,  and  the  com- 
munication was  to  pass  successively  to  the  farthest 
end.  The  orders  then  were,  the  moment  the  last 
man  was  touched,  he  should  fire,  which  was  to  be  the 
signal  for  a  general  discharge.  With  the  first  faint 
ray  of  light,  six  Indians  rose,  and  stood  around  the 
fire.  With  breathless  expectation  the  whites  waited 
for  the  remainder  to  rise;  but  failing,  and  apprehend- 
ing a  discovery,  the  Captain  moved  his  elbow,  and  the 
next  instant  the  wild-wood  rang  with  the  shrill  report 
of  the  rifles  of  the  spies.  Five  of  the  six  Indians  fell 
dead;  but  the  sixth,  screened  by  a  tree,  escaped. 
The  camp  being  large,  it  was  deemed  unsafe  to  at- 
tack it  further,  and  a  retreat  was  immediately  ordered. 
"Soon  after  the  above  occurrence,  in  returning 
from  a  similar  expedition,  and  when  about  two  miles 
from  the  mouth  of  Yellow  Creek,  at  a  place  admira- 
bly adapted  for  an  ambuscade,  a  solitary  Indian 
stepped  forward,  and  fired  upon  the  advancing  com- 
pany. Instantly  on  firing,  he  retreated  toward  a  deep 
ravine,  into  which  the  savage  hoped  to  lead  his  pur- 
suers. Cut  Brady  detected  the  trick ;  and,  in  a  voice 
of  thunder,  ordered  his  men  to  tree.  No  sooner  had 
this  been  done,  than  the  concealed  foe  rushed  forth 
in  great  numbers,  and  opened  upon  the  whites  a  per- 
fect storm  of  leaden  hail.  The  brave  spies  returned 


CAPTAIN    SAMUEL    BRADY.  23! 

the  fire  with  spirit  and  effect;  but,  as  they  were  likely 
to  be  overpowered  by  superior  numbers,  a  retreat  was 
ordered  to  the  top  of  the  hill,  and  thence  continued 
until  out  of  danger. 

"The  whites  lost  one  man  in  this  engagement  and 
two  wounded.  The  Indian  loss  is  supposed  to  have 
been  about  twenty  in  killed  and  wounded." 

With  one  more  incident  in  the  life  of  this  truly  re- 
markable man,  the  present  history  will  be  brought  to 
a  close. 

While  traveling,  with  four  companions,  through  a 
thick  and  gloomy  wood  in  Western  Pennsylvania, 
Brady  came  one  day  to  a  deserted  Indian  camp. 
Every  appearance  indicated  that  the  savages  had  left 
the  spot  only  a  few  hours  previous.  The  fire  was  still 
burning,  and  the  hind-quarters  of  a  deer,  which  had 
been  killed  not  long  before,  were  found  lying  in  the 
grass.  Examining  the  ground  carefully,  Brady  dis- 
covered two  trails,  one  of  which  led  toward  the  fire, 
and  the  other  away  from  it.  They  had  both  been 
made,  evidently,  by  the  same  party  of  Indians,  whose 
numbers,  Brady  concluded,  did  not  exceed  five  or  six. 
He  determined  to  pursue,  overtake,  and  attack  them  ; 
but,  as  he  and  his  comrades  were  very  hungry,  hav- 
ing eaten  nothing  since  the  previous  evening,  h  i 
readily  complied  with  the  urgent  requests  of  his  men, 
and  ordered  that  the  fire  should  be  rekindled,  and 
the  remains  of  the  deer  be  cooked  for  their  dinner. 
In  a  few  moments  the  spies  were  seated  on  the 
ground,  eagerly  devouring  the  meat  which  the  In- 
dians had  providentially  left  for  them, 
H  - 


232  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

Suddenly  stopping,  while  in  the  midst  of  his  meal, 
Brady  remarked  to  one  of  his  comrades  that  he 
began  to  suspect  that  the  savages  were  too  kind  by 
half,  and  had  either  poisoned  the  deer,  or  else  left  it 
there  with  some  design.  He  had  no  sooner  spoken 
than  he  saw  the  flash  of  a  rifle  from  the  branches  of 
a  neighboring  tree,  and  the  next  instant  twenty  or 
thirty  guns  were  heard  to  sound,  all  of  them  being 
fired  by  Indians  concealed  in  the  tree-tops.  Brady's 
four  companions  dropped  dead.  He  himself  was  un- 
hurt, but  he  knew  that  his  enemies  had  spared  him 
only  to  devote  him  to  a  more  wretched  and  dreadful 
death ;  and,  grasping  his  rifle,  he  instantly  sprang  to 
his  feet  and  bounded  quickly  off  through  the  woods. 

Although  he  ran  with  all  the  swiftness  of  a  man 
who  knows  that  successful  flight  alone  can  save  him 
from  unavoidable  and  horrible  death,  he  soon  saw 
that  the  Indians  had  laid  their  plans  of  capture  with 
the  greatest  care.  He  had  gone  but  a.  few  rods 
when  he  saw,  immediately  in  front  of  him,  a  party  of 
a  dozen  burly  savages  emerging  from  a  thick  covert, 
and  preparing  to  surround  him.  He  changed  his 
course,  but  his  enemies  soon  intercepted  him ;  and 
before  he  had  time  to  turn  and  choose  another  direc- 
tion, the  Indians  in  the  rear,  who  had  by  this  time 
descended  from  the  trees,  came  up,  and  closing 
around,  soon  overpowered  him,  and  obliged  him  to 
surrender. 

Binding  their  prisoner  tightly  with  thick  cords,  the 
Indians  returned  to  the  camp,  scalped  the  four  white 
men,  and  then  set  out  for  their  village.  During  the 


CAPTAIN  SAMUEL  BRADY,  233 

march  they  shouted  and  screamed  in  exultation,  but 
did  not  beat  or  otherwise  misuse  their  captive,  since 
they  preferred  to  keep  him  sound  and  unharmed 
until  their  friends  could  share  in  the  enjoyment  which 
his  torture  would  afford.  He  was  watched  vigilantly 
at  night,  and  each  time  he  opened  his  eyes  he  was 
greeted  by  a  large  Indian  who  stood  over  him,  with 
a  prod  and  a  savage  declaration  that,  if  he  offered  to 
make  a  movement,  his  brains  should  instantly  be 
blown  out. 

Arriving,  at  length,  at  the  Indian  town,  Brady  was 
exhibited  by  his  captors  to  the  inhabitants,  who  re- 
ceived him  with  every  demonstration  of  excessive 
joy.  When  the  first  expressions  of  delight  were  over, 
the  warriors  ranged  themselves  in  two  long  rows, 
and  the  prisoner  was  led  forth  to  run  the  gauntlet. 
The  trial  was  brief,  though  very  severe.  He  was 
clubbed  and  thrashed  so  mercilessly  that  his  flesh 
was  pounded  to  a  jelly.  His  head  was  beaten  almost 
to  a  shapeless  mass,  and  one  cheek  was  laid  open  by 
a  cruel  blow  made  by  a  sharp  stick  of  wood.  When 
the  gauntlet  race  was  over,  Brady  was  led  to  a  stake, 
around  which  a  pile  of  fagots  had  been  heaped,  and 
preparations  were  made  for  putting  him  to  the 
torture. 

Before  tying  him  to  the  stake  the  Indians,  strip- 
ping him  naked,  unloosed  his  hands,  and  placed  him 
near  the  pile.  They  then  kindled  a  fire  and  drew 
him  directly  up  to  it,  in  order,  no  doubt,  that  he 
might  have  a  foretaste  of  the  torments  which  were  to 
follow ;  and,  while  he  stood  in  the  blistering  heat, 


234  THE   BACK-WOODSMEN. 

they  formed  a  circle  and  commenced  to  dance  around 
him.  Every  one  in  the  village  joined  in  this  cere- 
mony, and  as  they  performed  the  dance,  the  warriors 
gave  utterance  to  the  most  fiendish  threats  and  yells, 
while  the  squaws  and  children,  occasionally  leaving 
the  circle,  struck  him  with  clubs  and  switches,  and 
endeavored  to  push  him  over  into  the  fire. 

During  these  ceremonies,  Brady  stood  calm  and 
motionless,  meeting  every  threat  and  blow  of  his  tor- 
mentors with  a  fearless  eye  and  an  unyielding  reso- 
lution. He  knew  his  fate  was  sealed,  but  he  deter- 
mined to  die  like  a  brave  man,  and,  if  need  be,  resist 
savage  cruelty  with  savage  fortitude. 

While  the  dance  was  at  its  height,  and  the  yells  of 
the  Indians  were  loudest  and  most  fearful,  a  woman, 
whom  Brady  knew  to  be  the  squaw  of  one  of  the 
chiefs,  seized  a  ponderous  war-club,  left  the  circle, 
and  advanced  toward  the  prisoner.  She  carried  a 
young  child  on  her  arm,  which,  as  soon  as  its  mother 
came  within  the  intense  heat  of  the  fire,  set  up  a 
piercing  cry.  As  the  woman  came  nearer,  a  terrible 
thought  suddenly  flashed  across  Brady's  mind,  and 
he  made  an  instinctive  movement,  but,  recovering 
himself,  he  once  more  stood  quiet,  and  received  the 
blow,  which  she  dealt  him,  without  relaxing  a  muscle. 
The  squaw  rejoined  the  circle,  and  the  company 
danced  around  the  captive  with  still  greater  fury. 

A  moment  afterward  the  woman  again  left  her 
companions,  and,  still  carrying  the  child,  advanced 
to  give  Brady  another  blow.  Indignation  and  re- 
sentment were  now  so  strongly  aroused  in  the  un- 


CAPTAIN    SAMUEL    BRADY.  235 

fortunate  prisoner,  that  they  held  uncontrolled  sway, 
and,  the  moment  that  the  club  was  raised,  he 
pounced  upon  his  tormentor,  seized  her  by  the 
throat,  and,  tearing  the  child  from  her  arms,  quickly 
threw  it  into  the  flames.  At  this  action  the  Indians, 
horror-stricken,  suddenly  stopped,  and  each  person 
in  the  crowd,  starting  forward,  as  by  one  thought, 
ran  to  the  rescue.  Anticipating  this  confusion,  Brady 
was  not  slow  in  taking  advantage  of  it.  He  instantly 
darted  through  the  circle,  overturning  all  that  stood 
in  his  way,  and,  running  with  the  utmost  fleetness, 
made  for  the  adjoining  wood.  A  host  of  Indians  gave 
chase,  but,  finding  the  fugitive  too  fleet,  all  but  a 
few  stopped,  and  sent  a  shower  ©f  bullets  after  him. 
The  remainder  continued  the  pursuit,  but  Brady  dis- 
tanced them  all,  and,  when  out  of  sight,  concealed 
himself  among  some  laurel  bushes  in  a  deep  ravine. 
He  remained  in  his  hiding-place  until  night  of  the 
next  day,  when  he  ventured  forth  and  resumed  his 
flight.  As  he  was  familiar  with  every  part  of  the 
country,  he  succeeded  in  making  his  way  to  the  set- 
tlements, and,  obtaining  some  clothing  at  a  farm- 
house, set  out  for  Pittsburgh,  where  he  arrived  after 
five  days'  journey. 


JOHN  AND  JAMES  BRADY. 


pAPTAIN  JOHN  BRADY,  as  we  have  stated  in 
\J  the  preceding  narrative,  lived  at  Shippensburg, 
Pennsylvania,  where  his  two  sons,  Samuel — afterward 
the  noted  Captain  of  the  Rangers — and  James  were 
born.  In  i  768,  he  removed,  with  his  family,  to  North- 
umberland County.  Here  he  remained  for  a  few 
years,  and  then  settled,  with  a  number  of  other  pion- 
eers, in  a  region  on  the  West  Branch  of  the  Susque- 
hanna,  which  had  been  obtained  by  purchase  from 
the  Indians  at  the  close  of  the  French  and  Indian 
War.  At  this  place  he  lived  until  1776,  when  he 
accepted  a  captaincy  in  the  I2th  Pennsylvania  Regi- 
ment, and,  with  his  son  James,  took  the  field  for 
active  service.  Both  father  and  son  were  severely 
wounded  in  the  battle  of  Brandywine,  and  being  una- 
ble to  perform  duty,  were  permitted  to  return  home. 

In  order  to  defend  the  surrounding  country  from 
the  Indians,  who,  toward  the  beginning  of  the  Revo- 
lution, grew  very  aggressive,  Fort  Augusta  had  been 
erected  on  the  river,  a  few  miles  from  the  settlement 
in  which  Captain  Brady  lived.  This  Fort  was  garri- 
soned by  about  fifty  men,  under  the  command  of 
Major  Hunter,  a  meritorious  officer. 

Previous   to    his   departure   for   the    wars,  Captain 


JOHN  AND  JAMES  BRADY.  237 

John  Brady  had  rendered  very  effective  service  to  his 
brother  settlers  as  one  of  the  most  intrepid  of  the 
soldiers  stationed  at  the  fort.  On  one  occasion  he 
was  selected  as  a  commissioner  to  effect  a  treaty  with 
the  Seneca  and  Muncie  Indians.  He  visited  the  vil- 
lages of  these  tribes,  and  was  received  by  the  warri- 
ors in  a  friendly  manner ;  but,  not  being  able  to 
arrive  at  satisfactory  terms,  he  requested  them  to 
come  to  the  fort,  saying  that  conclusions  could  be 
reached  better  on  a  second  interview.  The  savages 
accepted  his  invitation,  and  a  few  days  later  paid 
the  whites  a  visit. 

As  it  was  customary  to  give  the  Indians  presents 
on  occasions  of  this  kind,  the  warriors  came  ex- 
pecting gifts.  The  whites  were,  however,  too  poor 
to  bestow  any  thing  of  value,  and  the  Indians  there- 
fore stubbornly  refused  to  treat.  But,  though  they 
would  not  consent  to  enter  into  an  alliance,  they 
left  the  fort  in  apparent  good  humor,  assuring  the 
garrison  that  they  had  no  hostile  intentions,  but,  on 
the  contrary,  earnestly  desired  to  live  in  peace.  Im- 
mediately after  their  departure,  Major  Hunter  sum- 
moned his  officers,  in  order  to  consult  with  them  upon 
the  plan  which  should  be  pursued ;  for,  although  he 
did  not  suspect  the  warriors  of  want  of  faith,  he 
knew  that  the  country  was  menaced  by  a  large  war- 
party  of  the  Delawares,  and  he  feared  that  other 
tribes  might  be  induced  to  j'oin  the  hostile  expedition. 

At  the  instance  of  Captain  Brady,  Hunter  deter- 
mined to  send  detachments  of  soldiers  to  the  points 
which  v/ere  most  exposed,  and  to  dispatch  messen- 


238  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

g-ers  to  all  the  neighboring  settlements  for  the  pur- 
pose of  informing  the  inhabitants  of  the  state  of 
affairs,  and  advising  them  to  arm;  and  the  various 
parties  accordingly  set  out.  Late  in  the  day,  Brady 
remembered  that  one  important  post,  a  trading-sta- 
tion, occupied  by  a  Dutchman  named  Derr,  had  been 
forgotten,  and,  mounting  a  horse,  he  set  out  himself 
to  carry  the  information. 

As  he  approached  his  destination,  Brady  saw  the 
canoes  of  the  Indians  moving  backward  and  forward 
over  the  stream,  at  a  point  near  the  station.  Coming 
nearer,  he  discovered  that  the  boats  were  paddled  by 
squaws,  who  were  using  their  utmost  endeavors. 
Making  his  way  as  cautiously  as  possible,  he  reached 
the  bank  without  being  perceived,  and,  from  his  point 
of  observation,  he  saw  that  the  women  on  the  oppo- 
site side  were  busy  in  loading  the  canoes  with  the 
rifles,  tomahawks,  knives,  and  private  effects  of  the 
warriors,  and  that,  on  landing,  the  women  who  rowed 
the  boats  carried  the  freight  into  the  bushes  and 
concealed  it. 

Guessing  that  something  was  wrong,  Brady  tied  his 
horse,  and,  watching  his  opportunity,  jumped  into  a 
canoe,  and  rowed  swiftly  across  to  the  station.  En- 
tering the  yard,  he  saw  the  whole  party  of  Indians 
stretched  on  the  ground,  brutally  drunk.  A  barrel 
of  rum,  about  half  empty,  was  standing  near  the  door, 
while  the  proprietor,  Frederick  Derr,  sat  in  a  chair, 
smoking  his  pipe,  as  if  nothing  had  happened.  Goino 
angrily  up  to  Derr,  Brady  demanded  what  he  meant 
by  permitting  the  Indians  to  conduct  themselves  in  so 


JOHN    AND   JAMES    BRADY.  239 

beastly  a  manner.  The  Dutchman  replied,  that  the 
savages  had  come  to  his  trading-house  with  the  com- 
plaint that  the  soldiers  at  the  fort  had  given  them  no 
treat;  and  with  the  threat  that,  unless  he  gave  them 
liquor,  they  would  break  open  his  establishment  and 
obtain  it  by  force.  He  had  accordingly  complied  with 
their  demand,  and  rolled  out  a  barrel  of  rum,  telling 
his  unceremonious  guests  to  help  themselves. 

While  Derr  was  speaking,  one  of  the  drunken  In- 
dians rose  from  the  ground  ;  and,  staggering  toward 
the  door,  was  about  to  dip  a  vessel  into  the  rum,  when 
Brady  interfered,  and,  overturning  the  barrel,  spilled 
its  contents.  The  Indian,  though  too  much  intoxi- 
cated to  prevent  the  action,  resented  it  savagely ;  and, 
eying  Brady  fiercely  for  a  moment,  told  him  that  he 
should  one  day  regret  what  he  had  done.  Repeating 
his  threat  with  still  greater  fury,  he  threw  himself 
once  more  on  the  ground,  while  Brady,  after  exchang- 
ing a  few  words  with  Derr,  took  his  departure,  crossed 
the  river,  and  returned  to  the  fort. 

Captain  Brady  was  too  well  acquainted  with  the 
Indian  character  not  to  know  that  the  spirit  of  re- 
venge, when  once  aroused  in  the  heart  of  the  sav- 
age, can  be  extinguished  by  death  alone.  He  was, 
therefore,  conscious  that  the  threat  of  the  Indian  was 
not  an  idle  one;  but  that,  if  he  ever  had  it  in  his 
power,  he  would  punish  the  offense  by  taking  the  life 
of  the  offender.  For  several  years  afterward,  Brady 
accordingly  kept  constantly  on  his  guard  ;  but,  as  he 
was  not  attacked,  he  finally  concluded  that  his  enemy 
had  forgotten  the  occurrence,  and  that,  if  they  ever 


THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

chanced  to  meet,  the  savage  would  not  recognize 
him,  or  else  would  let  him  pass.  How  correct  he 
was  in  this  conclusion,  our  readers  shall  presently 
hear. 

On  the  return  of  John  Brady  from  the  army,  after 
the  battle  of  Brandy  wine,  he  was  given  the  command 
of  a  fort  which  had  been  built  at  the  mouth  of  Muncie 
Creek,  near  the  place  where  Pennsboro'  now  stands. 
This  command  he  had  held  for  a  few  months  previous 
to  his  departure  for  the  regular  service;  and  his  re- 
instatement was,  therefore,  a  matter  of  course. 

James  Brady,  the  second  son  of  Captain  John  Brady, 
accompanying  his  father  home  from  camp,  was  given 
by  him  an  important  position  at  the  fort.  Though 
under  twenty  years,  he  possessed  uncommon  strength 
and  bodily  skill,  having,  indeed,  very  few  equals  among 
the  grown  men  of  the  neighborhood.  His  ambition 
was  to  become  some  day  an  accomplished  soldier,  and, 
above  all,  to  gain  distinction  as  an  Indian  fighter;  and 
he  was  never  so  well  pleased  as  when  he  was  chosen 
to  bear  a  part  in  some  daring  enterprise.  He  had 
conducted  himself  with  no  small  credit  during  his  brief 
experience  with  the  army,  and  had  received  a  painful 
wound  in  the  right  leg  at  the  battle  of  Brandywine. 
Soon  after  his  return,  his  brother  Samuel,  at  that  time 
on  his  way  with  General  Broadhead  to  Pittsburgh,  paid 
a  visit  to  his  home;  and  James,  emulous  of  following 
his  example,  and  of  deserving  a  reward  of  merit  simi- 
lar to  that  which  had  been  conferred  on  him,  deter- 
mined that,  as  soon  as  his  wound  healed,  he  would 
once  more  enlist  in  the  volunteer  service. 


JOHN    AND   JAMES    BRADY.  241 

In  a  short  time  he  recovered  his  health  and  strength ; 
and,  informing  his  father  of  his  intentions,  set  about  to 
accomplish  his  purpose.  But,  as  no  demand  for  fresh 
troops  had  been  made  for  some  time  on  the  settle- 
ments, he  was  obliged  to  wait  until  a  body  of  men 
could  be  organized  large  enough  to  compose  a  respect- 
able volunteer  force. 

While  lying  inactive  at  the  fort,  impatient  of  the 
restraint  under  which  he  was  placed,  he  was  one  day 
informed  by  a  companion  that  a  party  of  men  was 
being  organized  for  the  purpose  of  assisting  a  farmer 
near  the  mouth  of  Loyalsack  Creek,  a  short  distance 
up  the  river,  in  cradling  his  field  of  oats.  He  imme- 
diately signified  his  willingness  to  join  the  company ; 
and,  his  proffer  being  accepted,  he  set  out  with  the 
men,  numbering  altogether  about  twenty,  for  the  field. 

In  accordance  with  a  custom  prevalent  in  those 
days,  the  men  who  composed  the  party,  before  set- 
ting out,  proceeded  to  choose  a  captain.  As  there 
was  no  commissioned  officer  present,  the  choice  de- 
volved on  the  bravest  and  most  competent  man ;  and, 
by  the  unanimous  consent  of  his  companions,  James 
Brady  was  selected  to  lead  the  company. 

Arriving  on  the  ground,  the  rifles  were  placed  in  a 
pile  at  one  end  of  the  field,  and  two  men  were  sta- 
tioned at  opposite  sides.  It  was  agreed  that,  in  case 
of  a  surprise  by  the  Indians,  the  men  were  to.  leave 
their  work,  run  to  the  place  where  the  rifles  had  been 
laid,  and  then  await  the  orders  of  their  leader. 

With  this  understanding,  the  harvesters  set  to  work 
with  a  will.  The  first  day  passed  without  incident; 


242  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

but  during  the  night  a  strict  watch  was  kept.  On  the 
second  day  the  harvesting  was  resumed,  and  nearly 
completed.  The  laborers  were  about  to  leave  their 
work  for  the  day,  when  one  of  the  sentinels  gave  a 
shrill  cry,  and  shouted  "Indians."  Immediately  two 
shots  were  fired  from  the  bushes,  but  both  without 
effect ;  for  the  man,  taking  to  instant  flight,  succeeded 
in  making  his  escape. 

Without  waiting  to  rally  his  companions,  whom  he 
supposed  to  be  no  less  eager  than  he  himself  to  re- 
sist the  attack,  Brady,  on  hearing  the  alarm,  ran  with 
all  possible  speed  for  his  rifle.  He  had  nearly  reached 
the  guns,  when,  casting  a  glance  over  his  shoulder,  he 
saw  a  band  of  Indians,  headed  by  a  white  man,  in  hot 
pursuit.  The  instant  that  he  turned,  the  leader  of  the 
party  fired  at  him  with  a  pistol ;  but,  just  as  the  trig- 
ger was  pulled,  Brady  accidentally  fell  over  a  sheaf 
of  oats,  and  the  ball  missed  him.  He  dropped  within 
reach  of  the  rifles;  and,  as  the  Indians  (who  supposed 
him  to  have  been  killed)  rushed  forward  to  take  his 
scalp,  he  grasped  a  gun,  and,  aiming  it  at  the  first  sav- 
age who  approached,  fired,  and  laid  him  dead  on  the 
ground.  Throwing  the  smoking  rifle  aside,  he  seized 
a  second  piece,  and  discharged  it  at  the  next  Indian 
with  equal  effect. 

To  his  utter  despair  and  terror,  the  brave  young 
captain  now  perceived  that  he  was  left  to  contend, 
single-handed  and  alone,  with  a  host  of  enemies ;  for 
his  comrades,  instead  of  repairing  to  the  appointed 
place,  had  incontinently  fled.  But,  though  he  knew 
that  speedy  death  would  be  the  inevitable  conse- 


JOHN    AND   JAMES    BRADY.  243 

quence  of  continued  resistance,  he  determined  to  die 
rather  than  surrender,  and,  grasping  a  third  rifle,  he 
prepared  to  die  gallantly. 

At  the  fall  of  the  second  Indian,  the  rest  of  the 
band,  seeing  the  resolution  and  heroism  of  the  young 
captain,  wavered  for  a  moment,  uncertain  whether  to 
close  around  him  and  take  him  prisoner  by  the  force 
of  numbers,  or  to  prevent  him  from  doing  further 
mischief  by  shooting  him  on  the  spot.  They  were 
not  left  to  debate  long;  for  Brady,  raising  his  piece 
without  a  second's  hesitation,  discharged  it  into  their 
midst,  and  a  third  savage  fell  bleeding  and  helpless. 

With  a  yell  of  mortification  and  fury,  the  Indians 
now  sprang  forward  in  a  body;  and,  closing  around 
Brady  as  he  was  about  to  cock  the  fourth  rifle,  pro- 
ceeded to  overcome  him  by  superior  force.  Brady 
resisted  stoutly.  He  first  attempted  to  club  down 
his  opponents  with  his  gun,  but  the  weapon  was  in- 
stantly wrenched  from  his  hands.  He  then  struggled 
violently,  hoping  to  force  his  way  through  the  crowd ; 
and  he  so  enraged  his  enemies  by  the  obstinacy  of 
his  resistance,  that  one  of  them  finally  drew  a  toma- 
hawk, and  struck  him  a  stunning  blow,  felling  him  to 
the  ground.  The  scalp  was  then  torn  from  his  head, 
and  the  Indians  left  him  lying  in  apparent  death. 

Although,  to  all  appearance,  there  was  not  a  spark 
of  life  in  Brady's  body  after  he  had  received  the  blow 
from  the  tomahawk,  and  while  the  scalp  was  being 
plucked  from  his  head,  he  was,  nevertheless,  perfectly 
sensible.  He  was  so  powerless  that  he  could  not 
move  a  limb,  but  he  felt  and  suffered  as  keenly  as  if 


244  TttE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

he  possessed  entire  control  of  all  his  bodily  energies. 
No  words  can  tell  the  agony  which  he  endured  while 
he  lay  beneath  the  knife  of  the  Indian,  suffering  every 
torment  of  life  and  death.  So  fully  did  he  retain  his 
senses,  that  he  was  able  to  see  the  scalp  after  it  was 
taken  from  him,  and  to  distinguish  the  words  of  exul- 
tation uttered  by  the  Indians,  who  regarded  it  as  a 
trophy,  on  account  of  its  long  and  luxuriant  growth 
of  hair. 

Leaving  their  victim,  the  savages  made  off  across 
the  field.  But  they  had  not  gone  far  when  they 
turned  and  came  back  to  secure  the  guns  which  still 
lay  where  the  whites  had  placed  them.  Casting  a 
glance  at  Brady,  one  of  the  savages  told  his  com- 
panions that  he  still  showed  signs  of  life ;  and  an 
Indian  youth  was  accordingly  ordered  to  dispatch 
him.  The  boy  seized  one  of  the  large  tomahawks 
of  the  warriors,  and,  uttering  the  Indian  war-whoop, 
struck  it  into  Brady's  head  in  four  separate  places. 
Satisfied  at  length  of  the  death  of  their  enemy,  the 
warriors  picked  up  the  rifles  and  once  more  took 
their  departure. 

In  the  course  of  about  half  an  hour  young  Brady 
revived,  and,  creeping  on  hands  and  knees,  made  a 
shift  to  reach  a  small  cabin,  occupied  by  an  old  man 
who  had  been  employed  to  cook  for  the  working 
party.  Twice,  in  the  course  of  his  painful  progress, 
he  fell  to  the  ground,  fainting  from  loss  of  blood,  but 
he  finally  succeeded  in  his  attempt ;  and,  arriving  at 
the  door  of  the  hut,  called  to  its  owner  for  assist- 
ance. The  old  man,  on  hearing  the  report  of  the 


JOHN    ANft  JAMES    BRADY. 

guns,  had  concealed  himself,  but,  recognizing  Brady's 
voice,  he  now  left  his  hiding-place  and  came  to  him. 

Informing  the  man  of  the  strength  of  the  Indians, 
Brady  begged  him  to  fly  to  the  fort,  saying  that  the 
red-skins  would  soon  be  back  and  would  kill  him. 
This  request  was  disregarded ;  and,  as  remonstrance 
proved  useless,  Brady  desired  the  old  man  to  carry 
him  to  the  river.  He  gladly  complied,  and  laying  the 
youth  down  on  the  bank,  brought  him  water  in  his 
hat,  which  he  drank  in  large  quantities.  Brady  still 
entreated  his  friend  to  fly  and  save  himself,  but  he  still 
refused.  He  then  requested  him  to  load  the  gun  in 
the  cabin  and  bring  it  to  him.  This  was  done,  and, 
taking  the  rifle  in  his  hands,  Brady  turned  on  his  side 
and  sank,  apparently,  into  deep  sleep. 

Suddenly  a  noise  was  heard  in  the  wood  behind, 
and  the  young  captain,  instantly  aroused,  sprang  to 
his  feet,  and,  ordering  his  companion  to  conceal  him- 
self in  the  bushes,  stood  guard.  In  a  moment  a 
horseman  emerged  from  the  trees,  and  soon  after  a 
troop  of  mounted  men  appeared.  Conjecturing  that 
the  horsemen  were  soldiers  who  had  been  sent  in 
pursuit  of  the  Indians,  Brady  called  to  them.  They 
came  to  him,  and,  after  hearing  his  story,  quickly  con- 
structed a  rude  litter,  and,  stretching  him  on  it,  bore 
him  as  rapidly  as  possible  to  the  fort. 

For  four  days  after  his  return,  the  young  captain 
lay  insensible  and  delirious.  On  the  fifth  day  he  re- 
covered his  senses,  and,  calling  his  father  to  him, 
related,  with  the  greatest  minuteness,  every  inci- 
dent connected  with  his  remarkable  adventure.  To- 


246  THE   BACK-WOODSMEN. 

ward  evening  he  died,  deeply  regretted  by  all  within 
the  fort,  as  well  as  by  every  one  in  the  settlements. 

In  his  description  of  the  Indian  attack,  Brady 
stated  that  the  savages  were  of  the  Seneca  tribe, 
and  were  led  by  a  warrior  whom  he  personally  knew 
to  be  the  celebrated  chief  Bald  Eagle,  from  whom 
certain  creeks  and  a  high  ridge,  so-called,  derive 
their  name.  Another  Indian  was  known  by  Brady's 
description  to  be  the  chief  Corn-planter.  Both  of 
these  warriors  were  among  the  most  famous  of  the 
Indian  braves;  and  vengeance,  "not  loud  but  deep," 
was  breathed  against  them. 

It  may  interest  our  readers  to  know  that,  a  few 
years  after  this  occurrence,  the  death  of  James  Brady 
was  bloodily  avenged  by  his  brother  Samuel,  the 
captain  of  the  Rangers.  To  retaliate  on  the  Indians 
for  some  of  their  depredations,  a  large  force  was  led 
against  them  by  General  Broadhead  in  person.  The 
command  of  the  advance  guard  was  intrusted  to  Sam- 
uel Brady.  At  a  point  on  the  Alleghany  River, 
which  has  since  been  named  Brady's  Bend,  a  large 
war-party  of  the  Senecas  was  encountered.  An  en- 
gagement followed,  and  during  the  battle,  Captain 
Brady  recognized  the  chief,  Bald  Eagle,  leading  a 
band  of  warriors  through  a  narrow  pass.  He  fired, 
but  did  not  know  the  result  of  his  shot  until  after- 
ward, when,  going  to  the  spot,  he  found  the  Eagle's 
dead  body.  A  ball  had  pierced  the  Indian's  heart; 
and  the  blood  of  the  brave  young  captain  of  Loyal- 
sack  was  fatally  and  righteously  avenged. 


JOHN  AND  JAMES  BRADY.  247 

The  murder  of  young  James  Brady,  by  the  Indi- 
ans, occurred  on  the  Qth  day  of  August,  1778.  For 
a  short  time  afterward  the  settlements  enjoyed  com- 
parative quiet;  but,  in  the  following  spring,  war 
broke  out  along  the  entire  frontier  line;  and,  in  order 
to  render  the  country  secure,  it  was  found  necessary 
to  garrison  the  forts  with  increased  forces  of  brave 
and  active  men. 

The  post  of  which  Captain  John  Brady  had  the 
command  was  situated  in  a  part  of  the  country 
which  was  much  exposed  to  attack.  At  his  urgent 
request  a  body  of  troops  was  sent  from  one  of  the 
forts  above  to  increase  the  garrison  ;  and,  on  the 
arrival  of  this  company,  Captain  Brady  felt  assured 
that,  with  the  assistance  of  the  neighboring  settlers, 
the  force  under  his  command  was  fully  adequate  to 
the  protection  of  the  strip  of  country  which  he  was 
required  to  guard. 

Before  many  weeks  had  passed,  the  supplies  of  the 
garrison  ran  short,  and  Captain  Brady,  mounting  his 
horse,  and  taking  with  him  a  wagon,  team,  and  guard, 
started  out,  on  the  iith  day  of  April,  1779,  toward 
Fort  Augusta,  to  obtain  additional  quantities.  Hav- 
ing loaded  his  wagon  with  all  that  could  be  had,  he 
set  out,  early  in  the  afternoon,  to  return.  The  wagon, 
surrounded  by  a  guard  of  six  men,  took  the  lead, 
and  the  captain  followed  at  some  distance,  accom- 
panied by  a  comrade  named  Peter  Smith. 

When  they  arrived  within  a  mile  or  two  of  the  fort, 
the  road  forked,  and  the  wagon,  still  keeping  the  lead, 

followed  the  direct  course.     Captain  Brady,  however, 
15 


248  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

turned  his  horse  into  the  other  path,  remarking  to  his 
companion,  as  he  did  so,  that  the  way,  was  shorter, 
and  that,  though  the  road  was  not  so  much  frequented, 
he  had  very  little  fear  of  Indians. 

Conversing  on  various  subjects,  Brady  and  Smith 
journeyed  on  leisurely  until  they  came  to  a  small  run, 
near  the  place  where  the  two  roads  joined,  a  short 
distance  below  the  fort.  Just  before  reaching  this 
point,  the  conversation  had  taken  a  mournful  turn. 
Captain  Brady  referred  in  terms  of  the  deepest  mel- 
ancholy to  the  death  of  his  son  James  ;  and,  speaking 
of  the  brutality  and  villainy  of  the  Indians,  he  de- 
scribed the  incident  which  had  occurred  several  years 
before  at  Derr's  Station,  where  the  drunken  Indian 
had  sworn  vengeance.  He  said  that  he  had  long 
given  up  all  fear  of  again  meeting  the  savage,  but 
that,  should  he  chance  to  encounter  him,  he  would 
have  no  difficulty  in  recognizing  him  on  account  of  a 
deep  scar  on  his  cheek. 

Crossing  the  run,  Brady,  stopping  his  horse  for  a 
'moment,  glanced  to  the  side  of  the  road,  and  re- 
marked to  his  companion  that  the  wildness  of  the 
place  would  be  very  favorable  to.  an  Indian  attack. 
Smith  answered  "Yes,"  and  the  captain  again  started 
his  horse.  The  animal  had,  however,  made  scarcely 
half  a  dozen  steps,  when  three  rifles  were  suddenly 
heard  in  quick  succession.  One  of  the  balls  grazed 
Smith's  forehead  ;  another  hit  his  horse,  which  in- 
stantly fell  with  its  rider.  The  third  struck  Captain 
Brady,  who,  relaxing  his  hold  of  the  bridle,  dropped 
lifeless  in  the  road. 


JOHN    AND   JAMES    BRADY.  249 

Disentangling  himself  from  his  fallen  horse,  Smith 
rose,  and  springing  on  Brady's  steed,  which  came 
dashing  past  at  that  moment,  he  rode  swiftly  away. 
When  at  the  distance  of  a  few  yards,  he  turned  round 
and  saw  that  two  of  the  Indians  were  standing  by  the 
side  of  the  road,  reloading  their  guns,  evidently  with 
the  hope  of  getting  another  shot  at  him.  The  third 
was  standing  over  the  dead  captain,  holding  a  bloody 
scalp  in  his  hand.  Although  he  had  but  a  moment's 
glance,  Smith  saw  that  this  Indian  answered  the  de- 
scription which  Brady  had  given  of  the  one  who  had 
threatened  his  life ;  for  he  could  plainly  see  that  he 
had  a  long  and  very  prominent  scar  on  his  right  cheek. 

Pursuing  his  flight,  Smith  arrived,  in  a  few  minutes, 
at  the  fort.  He  was  met  by  a  throng  of  people,  fore- 
most among  whom  was  the  dead  man's  wife.  In 
reply  to  the  anxious  inquiries  for  Captain  Brady, 
Smith  said  that  he  was  "in  heaven  or  hell,  or  else 
on  the  way  to  Tioga,"  meaning  that  he  was  either 
dead  or  a  prisoner;  and  added,  that  all  who' were  in- 
quisitive might  go  and  ascertain  for  themselves. 

The  men  composing  the  garrison  ran  to  the  spot. 
The  wagon-guard,  who  had  also  been  attracted  by 
the  firing-,  were  found  lifting  the  dead  body  from  the 
ground.  The  captain's  scalp  was  taken  off,  and  his 
rifle  was  gone;  but  the  Indians  had  not  mutilated  his 
body,  and  they  had  evidently  neglected  to  search  his 
pockets,  for  his  watch  and  valuables  were  found  un- 
disturbed. 

Thus  died  Captain  John  Brady,  the  victim  of  a  ma- 
lignant Indian's  revenge.  The  intelligence  of  his 


250  THE   BACK-WOODSMEN. 

death  was  carried  to  his  son,  Captain  Samuel  Brady, 
at  Pittsburgh,  who  immediately  took  a  solemn  oath 
that  he  would  consecrate  the  remainder  of  his  life  to 
avenging  the  blood  of  his  father  and  his  brave  young 
brother.  How  well  this  oath  was  kept,  we  have 
already  seen.  Few  names  are  more  celebrated  in 
the  early  annals  of  Western  Pennsylvania  than  that 
of  Brady ;  and  to  this  day  it  is  spoken  with  the  great- 
est admiration  and  enthusiasm  by  the  old  settlers. 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  LEWIS  WEITZEL. 


name  and  fame  of  Lewis  Weitzel,  the  re- 
1  nowned  and  intrepid  warrior  and  hunter,  are 
inseparably  connected  with  the  history  of  early  civili- 
zation in  the  West.  Between  the  years  1782  and 
1795,  this  bold  adventurer  was  to  the  settlers  of 
Virginia  what  Boone  and  Kenton  had  been  to  those 
of  Kentucky,  and  Brady  to  those  of  Western  Penn- 
sylvania. At  the  present  day,  the  story  of  his  ex- 
ploits reatls  like  the  most  extravagant  romance ;  and 
it  seems  scarcely  credible  that  any  man  could  have 
been  endowed  with  physical  powers  capable  of  ac- 
complishing the  extraordinary  feats  which  have  been 
ascribed  to  him.  Certain  it  is,  he  had  no  equal 
among  the  pioneers  of  his  part  of  the  country;  and, 
for  his  wonderful  success  as  a  spy,  hunter,  and  woods- 
man, was,  for  upward  of  twelve  years,  regarded  by 
the  settlers  as  their  right  arm  of  defense. 

The  father  of  Lewis  was  John  Weitzel,  one  of 
the  first  settlers  of  Wheeling  Creek,  West  Virginia, 
His  family  consisted  of  five  sons  and  two  daugb 
ters,  named  respectively :  Martin,  Lewis,  Jacob,  John, 
George,  Susan,  and  Christina.  The  first  four  of  the 
sons  lived  to  maturity;  and  all  became  famous  as 
bold  frontiersmen  and  as  Indian  hunters  of  the  most 


252  THE    BACK- WOODSMEN. 

unrivaled  courage,  enterprise,  and  audacity.  The 
astonishing  adventures  of  Lewis  threw  the  exploits 
of  his  brothers  into  the  shade ;  but  some  of  the  per- 
formances of  Martin,  Jacob,  and  John  are  very  re- 
markable, and  well  worthy  of  record. 

John  Weitzel,  the  father  of  the  boys,  was  one  of 
the  boldest  and  most  enterprising  of  the  early  pio- 
neers. He  was  a  man  absolutely  without  fear;  and 
in  all  of  the  Indian  wars,  up  to  the  time  of  his  death, 
bore  a  part  of  great  distinction  and  usefulness, — never 
returning  from  an  expedition  without  bringing  some 
token  of  his  prowess.  He  spent  a  great  deal  of  his 
time  in  locating  lands,  hunting,  and  fishing;  and, 
though  his  neighbors  frequently  entreated  him  to 
leave  his  dangerous  occupation,  and  to  cease  to  ex- 
pose himself  so  recklessly  to  attack,  he  disregarded 
all  of  their  admonitions,  saying  that  a  brave  man 
disdains  to  employ  the  precautionary  methods  of  the 
timorous.  His  courage,  however,  was  greater  than 
his  prudence,  as  will  be  shown  in  its  proper  place. 

Settling  at  Wheeling  Creek,  Mr.  Weitzel  rashly 
built  his  cabin  at  some  distance  from  the  fort,  and 
moved  his  family  into  it.  He  was  several  times 
urged  by  his  friends  to  leave  his  isolated  situation, 
and  come  within  cover  of  the  palisades;  but  he  re- 
fused to  comply,  until  one  day  a  sweeping  calamity 
forcibly  represented  to  him  the  extreme  folly  of  his 
conduct,  carrying  with  it,  at  the  same  time,  the  most 
terrible  consequences  of  delay  and  neglect. 

On  the  afternoon  of  a  fine  midsummer  day  of  the 
year  1774,  John  Weitzel  took  his  nets  and  rifle,  arid, 


THE    ADVENTURES   OF    LEWIS    WEITZEL. 

launching  his  canoe,  started  for  a  fishing  and  hunting 
excursion  up  the  river.  He  was  accompanied  by  his 
eldest  son  Martin,  a  stout  and  active  youth  of  sev- 
enteen. The  rest  of  the  family  were  left  at  the  cabin 
under  the  charge  of  Lewis,  at  that  time  about  thir- 
teen years  old. 

Soon  after  his  departure,  Mrs.  Weitzel  called  her 
boy  John,  and  sent  him  on  an  errand  to  the  fort,  bid- 
ding him  to  return  quickly.  As  the  Indians  had  not 
been  very  turbulent  in  the  immediate  neighborhood 
for  some  months,  and  as  it  was  still  broad  daylight, 
she  did  not  feel  any  uneasiness  for  her  family's  safety; 
but,  knowing  that  her  husband  intended  to  be  away 
during  the  night,  she  determined  to  take  every  neces- 
sary precaution  against  the  evening;  and,  motioning 
to  Lewis,  who  was  in  the  yard  chopping  wood,  she 
ordered  him  to  take  the  three  rifles  from  the  chimney- 
piece,  and  load  them  carefully.  Lewis  obeyed ;  and, 
standing  two  of  the  guns  by  the  door,  took  the  third 
and  stepped  out  of  the  house  to  practice  shooting  at 
the  target. 

Holding  the  gun  in  his  hand,  the  lad  stopped  for  a 
moment  on  the  threshold  to  watch  his  brother  Jacob, 
who  was  playing  in  the  grass.  Hearing  a  slight  noise, 
he  suddenly  lifted  his  eyes,  and,  looking  in  the  direc- 
tion from  which  it  seemed  to  proceed,  he  saw  the 
muzzle  of  a  gun  protruding  from  behind  a  tree.  He 
instantly  jumped  to  one  side  ;  but,  before  he  had  time 
to  save  himself,  the  rifle  was  discharged,  and  a  bullet 
struck  him  on  the  breast-bone.  By  the  greatest  good 
fortune,  it  did  not  have  a  fatal  effect,  It  carried  away. 


•254  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

however,  a  piece  of  the  bone,  and  made  a  fearful  gash 
athwart  the  chest,  producing  a  severely  painful  wound. 

Instantly  after  the  report  of  the  rifle,  the  woods  rang 
with  a  hideous  yell,  and  before  Lewis  had  time  to  re- 
cover his  gun,  which  had  dropped  from  his  grasp,  two 
large  Indian  warriors  sprang  forward  with  uplifce.l 
tomahawks.  While  one  of  them  secured  the  -two 
youths,  the  other  entered  the  house;  and,  knocking 
aside  a  rifle  which  Mrs.  Weitzel  was  about  to  aim  at 
his  breast,  raised  his  weapon,  and  quickly  severed  her 
head  from  her  body.  He  then  tomahawked  her  aged 
father  and  her  three  young  children  ;  and,  rejoining 
his  companions,  seized  Lewis  by  the  hand,  and  led 
him  and  his  brother  Jacob  into  the  wood. 

For  two  days  the  Indians  traveled  with  all  speed 
through  the  wilderness.  On  the  morning  of  the  sec- 
ond day,  they  reached  the  Ohio,  and,  crossing  it  near 
the  mouth  of  McMahan's  Creek,  continued  their 
march,  reaching  the  Big  Lick,  about  twenty  miles 
from  the  river,  toward  evening.  Although  young 
Weitzel's  wound  pained  him  terribly,  he  conducted 
himself  with  exemplary  courage,  making  no  complaint, 
and  cheering  on  his  younger  brother,  telling  him  that, 
if  he  made  good  speed,  the  Indians  would  treat  him 
well ;  but  that  the  moment  he  lagged  they  would  kill 
and  scalp  him  without  mercy. 

On  the  evening  of  this  day  the  Indians  encamped, 
and  lay  down  with  their  prisoners.  But,  contrary  to 
custom,  they  neglected  to  bind  the  captives  ;  and  they 
were  no  sooner  asleep  than  Lewis,  taking  advantage 
of  this  singular  omission,  stirred  his  brother,  and,  tell- 


THE    ADVENTURES   OF    LEWIS   \YEITZEL.  257 

ing  him  to  preserve  the  most  studied  silence,  took  his 
hand,  and  led  him  gently  away.  The  savages  did  not 
move,  and  the  two  boys  soon  reached  a  safe  distance. 
They  were  making  off  at  the  height  of  their  speed> 
when  Lewis  suddenly  stopped,  and  informed  his 
brother  that  they  had  forgotten  their  moccasirts.  He 
told  him  to  wait  while  he  returned  to  secure  them; 
Going  back  to  the  camp,  the  brave  lad  found  the  In- 
dians still  asleep,  and,  snatching  up  the  moccasins, 
once  more  turned  to  fly.  He  was  unperceived>  and 
soon  rejoined  his  brother.  The  moccasins  were  fitted 
on,  when  Lewis,  again  telling  his  brother  to  remain 
quietly  where  he  was,  once  more  went  back  to  the 
camp.  His  purpose  this  time  was  to  secure  a  rifle; 
for  he  knew  the  Indians  had  three,  since  they  had 
taken  one  from  his  father's  house.  He  readily  pro- 
cured the  weapon,  and,  as  the  savages  did  n'ot  move, 
succeeded  a  third  time  in  making  his  escape.  Flying 
through  the  thick  woods,  the  boys  soon  came  to  the 
path  which  they  had  followed  the  day  before,  and, 
traveling  briskly,  they  were  in  a  short  time  well  on 
their  way. 

Toward  morning,  Lewis,  who  had  kept  constantly 
on  the  alert  for  his  pursuers,  heard  a  crashing  noise 
at  some  distance  behind.  Seizing  his  brother  by  the 
arm,  he  whispered  to  him  to  steal  cautiously  into  the 
bushes.  Jacob  obeyed,  and  Lewis  followed  quickly 
after  him,  covering  up  their  tracks,  as  he  did  so,  with 
some  dry  leaves.  A  moment  later,  the  Indians  came 
rushing  along  the  path  at  a  furious  rate,  muttering 
volleys  of  savage  oaths.  When  they  had  passed, 


258  THE   BACK-WOODSMEN, 

Lewis  touched  his  brother's  arm,  and,  taking  the 
trail,  continued  the  journey.  Before  long,  they  heard 
the  savages  returning,  and  they  again  stepped  aside, 
once  more  eluding  capture.  A  short  time  before  day- 
break, they  were  followed  by  two  Indians  on  horse- 
back ;  but,  resorting  to  a  similar  expedient,  the  boys 
deceived  their  captors  for  the  third  time.  During  the 
day,  they  journeyed  without  seeing  or  hearing  any 
thing  of  their  enemies ;  and,  reaching  the  Ohio  about 
noon,  they  lashed  two  logs  firmly  together,  and 
crossed.  They  soon  made  their  way  to  a  settle- 
ment, and,  in  the  course  of  another  day,  were  re- 
stored to  their  friends. 

The  success  of  young  Weitzel  in  this  very  remarka- 
ble adventure  gained  for  him  a  great  deal  of  applause 
among  the  settlers.  All  were  agreed  in  saying  that 
his  pluck  and  heroism  were  something  quite  extraor- 
dinary; and  that,  both  for  his  boldness,  and  for  the 
cleverness  which  he  displayed  in  eluding  capture,  it 
was  evident  that  he  united  every  element  of  the  cour- 
ageous and  successful  adventurer. 

As  he  grew  older,  it  became  apparent  that  he  was 
destined  to  pass  through  a  most  useful  and  active 
career.  At  the  age  of  seventeen,  he  had  no  match 
among  the  settlers  as  a  marksman;  and  he  was  able 
to  contend  successfully  in  bodily  exercises  with  the 
most  stalwart  pioneers  of  Western  Virginia.  While 
a  boy,  he  acquired  the  practice  of  loading  his  rifle 
while  running,  and  he  thus  gained  a  double  advan- 
tage over  his  enemies ;  for,  in  case  of  pursuit,  he  was 
enabled  to  thwart  the  most  active  enemy.  How  quick 


THE    ADVENTURES    OF    LEWIS  WEITZEL.  259 

and  expert  he  was  in  this  difficult  exercise,  and  how 
valuable  it  proved  to  him,  the  following  story  will 
illustrate : 

In  the  year  1783,  shortly  after  William  Crawford's 
defeat  by  the  Indians,  a  man  named  Thomas  Mills, 
one  of  the  fugitives  of  that  disastrous  expedition, 
reached  the  Indian  Spring,  a  place  about  nine  miles 
from  Wheeling.  As  the  country  was  too  rough  to 
go  further  on  horseback,  he  left  his  horse  tied  to  a 
tree,  and  went  on  foot  to  the  settlement.  After  a 
day's  rest,  he  started  to  return ;  but,  knowing  that 
the  journey  would  be  very  dangerous,  he  induced 
Lewis  Weitzel, — who  was  then  about  nineteen  years 
old, — to  go  with  him.  Arriving  at  the  spring,  Mills 
proceeded  to  unloose  the  animal ;  but,  before  he  had 
accomplished  his  purpose,  Weitzel  suddenly  yelled 
to  him  to  place  himself  on  his  guard,  and  immedi- 
ately afterward  discharged  his  piece  at  an  Indian 
whom  he  had  discovered  peeping  from  behind  a 
tree.  The  shot  took  effect,  and  the  savage  fell 
dead.  This  act  was  followed  by  a  volley  of  bul- 
lets, fired  by  a  war-party  concealed  in  the  bushes; 
and,  before  Weitzel  had  time  to  reload  his  gun,  a 
band  of  about  forty  Indians  rushed  forward.  Look- 
ing round  for  his  companion,  Weitzel  discovered  him 
lying  motionless  on  the  ground  ;  and,  knowing  that 
his  own  death  or  capture  would  instantly  follow, 
unless  he  had  the  good  fortune  to  save  himself,  he 
made  a  quick  bound,  dashed  through  the  throng  of 
Indians,  and  started  off  at  the  full  extent  of  his 
speed. 


260  THE   BACK-WOODSMEN. 

He  was  not,  however,  destined  to  escape  without 
making  a  strenuous  effort;  for  he  had  no  sooner 
commenced  his  flight  than  four  of  the  fleetest  In- 
dians of  the  party  dropped  their  guns,  and  followed 
in  pursuit.  Weitzel  was  justly  accounted  a  young 
man  of  almost  unrivaled  activity;  and,  although  he 
had  but  a  few  feet  the  start,  he  soon  succeeded  in 
placing  a  distance  of  several  yards  between  himself 
and  the  foremost  Indian.  After  running  for  about 
half  a  mile,  he  became  conscious  that  his  pursuer 
was  steadily  gaining  on  him;  and,  turning  his  head, 
he  saw  the  savage,  only  a  few  feet  behind,  straining 
every  muscle.  Fearing  that  his  enemy  might  throw 
his  tomahawk,  Weitzel,  having  by  this  time  loaded 
his  gun,  quickly  wheeled,  and  shot  him  dead  in  his 
tracks.  The  three  remaining  Indians,  wrho  were 
some  distance  behind,  gave  a  loud  yell,  and  bounded 
forward  at  full  speed,  thinking  that,  since  the  white 
man's  gun  was  empty,  he  could  do  them  no  further 
harm.  Weitzel  now  had  no  fear  of  being  taken ;  for 
he  regarded  the  rest  of  the  party,  compared  with  the 
first  Indian,  as  mere  laggards,  and,  slackening  his 
speed,  he  quickly  reloaded  his  gun,  preparing  to  give 
his  pursuers  another  proof  of  his  skill  in  tactics. 

After  running  for  another  half  mile,  the  second 
Indian  came  up,  and  Weitzel  turned  to  shoot.  But, 
to  his  great  disgust,  he  found  that  the  fellow  had 
made  such  speed  that  he  was  immediately  on  his 
heels ;  and,  as  he  raised  the  rifle,  the  Indian  caught 
the  muzzle  with  both  hands,  striving  to  wrench  it  from 
his  grasp.  An  earnest  struggle  now  followed  for  the 


THE   ADVENTURES   OP    LEWIS   \VEIT2EL.  261 

possession  of  the  weapon.  The  savage  was  very 
large,  sinewy  and  dexterous,  and,  exerting  all  his 
strength,  he  finally  succeeded  in  bringing  his  oppo- 
nent to  the  ground.  Following  up  his  advantage,  he 
attempted  to  take  possession  of  the  gun,  but  Weitzel, 
making  a  quick  movement,  succeeded,  just  at  the  crit- 
ical instant,  in  recovering  himself,  and,  jerking  the 
piece  from  the  Indian's  grasp,  placed  the  muzzle 
against  his  breast  and  fired.  The  warrior  gave  a 
heavy  groan,  and  dropped  dead  on  the  spot. 

The  two  savages  who  remained  continued  the 
pursuit.  By  this  time,  however,  both  they  and  the 
fugitive  were  very  tired,  and  the  chase  was  not  so 
animated  as  it  had  been.  In  a  few  moments  Weitzel 
had  again  charged  his  gun,  and  as  he  was  anxious  to 
put  an  end  to  the  business,  he  faced  about  and 
raised  it  to  shoot.  The  two  Indians  dodged,  and 
concealed  themselves  behind  trees.  Weitzel  re- 
sumed his  flight,  and  they  followed  in  pursuit.  He 
again  stopped  and  they  again  treed;  and  they  ran 
on  in  this  way  for  two  or  three  miles,  until  Weitzel, 
thoroughly  exasperated,  suddenly  turned  and  fired 
at  one  of  the  Indians  just  as  he  was  taking  cover. 
The  ball  took  effect  in  the  man's  thigh,  and  produced 
a  wound  which,  as  Weitzel  learned  afterward,  proved 
fatal.  At  his  comrade's  fall,  the  fourth  Indian  gave 
a  little  shriek,  and  cried  in  a  manner  which  threw 
Weitzel  into  convulsions  of  laughter,  "No  catch  dat 
man;  him  gun  always  loaded''  running  off  as  he  did 
so,  glad,  doubtless,  to  escape  with  his  life.  In  this 
extraordinary  adventure,  Weitzel  killed  three  Indi- 


262  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

ans  and  mortally  wounded  a  fourth,  He  escaped 
without  harm,  and  arrived  home  in  a  few  hours  with 
the  report  of  his  remarkable  achievement. 

During  the  next  four  years  Weitzel  passed  most 
of  his  time  in  hunting  and  fishing.  In  this  period 
he  had  many  adventures  of  a  most  exciting  nature, 
and  his  name  gradually  came  to  be  known  and  feared 
by  the  Indian  tribes  throughout  Virginia.  It  was 
not,  however,  until  the  year  1787,  that  he  became 
an  avowed  Indian  hunter,  and  commenced  his  advent- 
urous career  in  earnest.  The  incident  which  was 
immediately  instrumental  in  transforming  him  from 
the  careless  trapper  and  woodsman  into  the  deter- 
mined and  terrible  avenger  of  blood,  may  be  told  in 
brief,  as  follows : 

His  father,  John  Weitzel,  as  our  readers  have 
already  been  informed,  was  a  man  of  the  most  reck- 
less arid  desperate  valor  and  daring.  In  pursuit  of 
his  occupation,  that  of  hunter  and  surveyor,  he  fre- 
quently went  on  long  journeys  without  a  single  com- 
panion, and  was  never  attended  by  more  than  one  or 
two  friends.  One  day,  while  returning  in  a  canoe, 
with  one  companion,  from  an  excursion  to  Middle  Island 
Creek,  he  was  hailed  by  a  large  party  of  Indians, 
aid  ordered  to  put  ashore.  Without  making  a  re- 
ply he  headed  his  boat  for  the  middle  of  the  stream, 
and,  with  his  companion,  used  every  effort  to  escape. 
The  Indians  fired  on  the  instant,  and  one  of  their 
balls  struck  Weitzel  in  the  body,  wounding  him  mor- 
tally. Knowing  that,  under  any  circumstances,  he 
must  soon  die  from  the  effects  of  the  shot,  Weitzel, 


THE    ADVENTURES    OF    LEWIS    WEITZEL.-  263 

true  to  his  noble  and  heroic  spirit,  ordered  his  com- 
panion to  lie  down  in  the  canoe,  and  then,  working 
the  paddles  with  renewed  vigor,  although  his  life 
was  ebbing  fast,  pulled  for  the  opposite  shore.  The 
Indians  fired  another  volley,  but,  fortunately,  without 
effect,  and  before  they  had  time  to  discharge  a  third, 
the  boat  was  out  of  range.  Weitzel  expired  soon 
after  reaching  the  bank,  and  was  buried  by  his  com- 
panion. His  grave  may  still  be  seen  near  the  old 
fortress,  called  Baker's  Station.  It  is  marked  by  a 
rough  stone,  on  which  is  written  in  rough,  though 
distinct  characters,  the  inscription,  "  J.  W.,  1787." 

On  receiving  the  news  of  his  father's  death,  Lewis 
Weitzel,  in  common  with  his  three  brothers,  sol- 
emnly swore  sleepless  vengeance  against  the  whole  In- 
dian race.  Lewis  was,  at  this  time,  about  twenty-three 
years  old,  and  in  the  prime  of  his  manhood.  En- 
dowed with  a  will  as  inflexible  as  his  bodily  powers 
were  vigorous,  few  could  have  been  better  adapted 
to  carry  a  resolution  of  this  kind  into  effect;  and  at 
no  time  during  his  subsequent  life  did  he  forget  the 
oath  which  he  had  taken,  while  the  vengeance  which 
he  wrought  was  terrible  indeed.  A  few  incidents  in 
his  life  will  serve  to  illustrate  the  boldness  and  firm- 
ness of  his  spirit,  and  to  point  out  at  once  what  was 
good  and  what  was  bad  in  his  character.  The  fol- 
lowing account  of  his  adventures  has  been  written 
more  to  secure  this  object  than  to  form  a  continuous 
and  accurate  narrative  of  his  career;  and  it  is  hoped 
that  whatever  deficiencies  it  may  have  in  point  of 
chronological  arrangement,  will  be  overlooked  in  view 


264  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

of  the  much  greater  importance  of  the  subject-matter 
itself,  which  has  been  drawn  from  the  most  reliable 
sources,  and  all  of  which  can  be  depended  upon  as 
scrupulously  truthful  and  thoroughly  authentic. 

A  few  weeks  after  the  murder  of  John  Weitzel, 
the  Indians  became  very  troublesome  in  the  neigh- 
borhood of  the  Wheeling  settlement,  and,  one  of  their 
parties  having  killed  a  man  at  a  place  called  Mingo 
Bottom,  it  was  decided  to  take  vigorous  measures 
against  them.  An  expedition  was  accordingly  formed 
and  dispatched,  under  Major  McMahan ;  and,  in  order 
to  stimulate  the  men  to  use  every  possible  effort,  a 
subscription  purse  of  one  hundred  dollars  was  made 
up  and  offered  as  a  reward  to  the  man  who  should 
bring  in  the  first  Indian  scalp. 

On  being  requested  to  join  the  band,  Lewis  Weit- 
zel promptly  consented,  telling  his  comrades  that, 
though  he  expected  before  long  to  claim  and  receive 
the  reward,  he  thought  less  of  the  profits  of  the  un- 
dertaking than  of  the  satisfaction  which  he  expected 
to  derive  in  encountering  the  rascally  red-skins.  The 
party,  numbering  about  twenty  men,  crossed  the 
river,  and,  marching  rapidly  in  the  direction  of  the 
Muskingum,  soon  penetrated  the  heart  of  the  wil- 
derness. 

Striking  a  broad  Indian  trail,  a  detachment  of  five 
men  was  sent  forward  to  reconnoiter.  This  detach- 
ment, after  an  absence  of  a  few  hours,  returned,  and 
reported  that  the  savages  were  encamped  directly 
ahead,  but  that  their  numbers  were  far  too  great  to 
warrant  an  attack ;  adding  that  the  best  which  could 


THE   ADVENTURES    OF    LEWIS    WEITZEL.  265 

be  done,  under  the  circumstances,  was  to  return  im- 
mediately, since  the  Indians,  doubtless,  had  runners 
scattered  throughout  the  country,  who  would  discover 
the  pursuing  party  and  carry  word  quickly  to  the 
main  body.  Taking  counsel  with  a  few  of  his  friends. 
McMahan  determined  to  give  over  the  enterprise, 
and  accordingly  ordered  a  retreat. 

While  the  discussion  was  going  on,  Weitzel  sat 
quietly  on  a  log,  carelessly  resting  his  rifle  on  his 
knees,  and  listening  with  an  amused  expression  to 
the  various  arguments  which  were  offered.  As  soon 
as  it  was  decided  to  return,  nearly  all  of  the  party  set 
off  in  impetuous  haste,  and  Weitzel's  amused  look 
changed  to  an  expression  of  the  most  thorough  dis- 
gust. As  he  did  not  move,  McMahan  turned  to 
him  and  asked  him  whether  he  intended  to  join  his 
comrades.  "No,"  he  sullenly  replied;  "I  came  out 
to  hunt  Indians,  and  now  that  they  are  found,  I  am 
not  going  home,  like  a  fool,  with  my  fingers  in  my 
mouth.  I  am  determined  to  take  an  Indian  scalp,  or 
lose  my  own."  At  this  answer  his  companions  looked 
at  him  for  a  moment  in  amazement,  but,  seeing  that 
he  was  in  earnest,  they  attempted  to  argue  with  him, 
representing  to  him  the  extreme  folly  of  his  course. 
He  would  not,  however,  listen  to  any  words,  and, 
bidding  him  adieu,  they  soon  took  a  hasty  departure. 

When  the  men  were  gone,  Weitzel  arose,  and, 
gathering  his  blanket  around  him,  adjusted  his  toma- 
hawk and  scalping-knife,  examined  and  shouldered  his 
rifle,  and  then  started  off  alone,  pursuing  the  course 
which 'his  companions  had  abandoned.  Thoroughly 


266  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

acquainted  with  every  feature  of  Indian  warfare,  he 
advanced  with  all  the  caution  of  the  experienced 
hunter,  avoiding  all  of  the  large  streams,  and  peering 
into  every  dell  and  cover,  keenly  alive  to  all  sounds 
and  appearances  of  a  doubtful  nature.  He  met  with 
no  adventure  during  the  first  day,  and  as  evening 
came  on,  satisfying  himself  that  there  was  no  danger 
of  being  discovered,  he  lay  down  to  sleep. 

The  night  air  was  very  cold,  and  Weitzel  soon 
awoke,  chilled  to  the  bone.  As  he  knew  that  there 
were  enemies  in  the  neighborhood,  he  did  not  venture 
to  light  a  fire,  but,  resorting  to  an  expedient  as  novel 
as  it  was  ingenious,  he  soon  succeeded  in  producing  a 
good  substitute.  He  made  a  small  coal  pit  out  of 
bark,  dried  leaves,  and  other  materials,  and  covering 
the  heap  with  some  loose  earth,  leaving  an  air-hole  or 
two,  he  lighted  the  combustibles  and  encircled  the  pit 
with  his  legs.  He  thus  got  the  benefit  of  a  fire  with- 
out showing  a  light,  and,  covering  the  upper  part  of 
his  body  with  his  blanket,  he  soon  sank  into  an  agree- 
able sleep. 

On  the  next  morning,  Weitzel  resumed  his  hunt 
for  Indians.  After  traveling  for  many  hours  over 
a  large  extent  of  country  without  seeing  any  signs, 
he  came,  at  length,  to  a  small  clearing,  and,  to  his 
great  joy,  discovered,  at  a  short  distance,  a  column 
of  smoke  rising  through  the  trees.  Going  quickly  to 
the  spot  from  which  the  smoke  ascended,  he  found  a 
camp,  though  no  Indians.  On  the  ground,  near  the 
fire,  were  two  blankets  and  a  small  kettle,  and,  guess- 
ing that  they  were  the  property  of  two  Indians  absent 


TkiJir 


TFIE    ADVENTURES   OF   LEWIS   \VEITZEL.  267 

on  the  hunt,  he  concealed  himself  and  patiently 
awaited  developments.  In  a  short  time,  one  of  the 
savages  came  in,  and,  stirring  the  fire,  went  about 
to  prepare  his  supper.  His  companion  arrived  about 
ten  minutes  later.  They  ate  their  meal,  and  then 
commenced  to  amuse  themselves  by  singing  and  tell- 
ing stories.  They  seemed  to  be  in  a  very  mirthful 
mood,  and  their  grimaces  and  extravagant  bursts  of 
laughter  afforded  Weitzel  no  small  entertainment. 
He  might  easily  have  shot  both  of  them  while  they 
sat  helpless  and  utterly  incapable  of  defense,  or 
rolled  on  the  ground  convulsed  with  merriment,  ni  t 
he  preferred  to  wait  for  awhile  and  watch  their  move- 
ments. 

About  ten  o'clock,  one  of  the  savages  tock  his 
rifle  and  wrapped  his  blanket  around  him,  telling  his 
companion  that  he  was  going  to  a  lick  on  a  small 
stream  near  at  hand  to  watch  for  deer.  His  depart- 
ure was  a  source  of  considerable  vexation  to  Weitzel, 
who  had  laid  his  plans  so  as  to  kill  both ;  but,  hoping 
that  the  Indian  would  return  before  morning,  he  de- 
termined to  leave  the  other  one  unmolested  until  his 
absent  comrade  again  put  in  an  appearance.  Many 
hours  passed,  and  the  Indian  did  not  return.  Finally 
the  birds  in  the  trees  commenced  to  chirp,  indicating 
that  the  day  was  near  at  hand.  Longer  delay  was 
intolerable,  and  Weitzel  concluded  to  put  an  end 
to  the  adventure  at  once.  He  walked  into  the 
camp,  and  stealing  up  to  the  Indian,  who  lay  sleep- 
ing on  one  side,  he  drew  his  knife  and  drove  it 
with  the  utmost  force  into  his  body.  The  blow  was 


268  THE   BACK-WOODSMEN. 

well-directed,  and  the  blade  penetrated  the  heart, 
for  the  victim  uttered  no  sound,  but  gave  only  a  short, 
convulsive  quiver,  and  then  lay  motionless  in  death. 
Weitzel  quickly  took  his  scalp,  and,  setting  out  on 
his  return,  made  such  speed  that  he  arrived  at  Mingo 
Bottom  only  one  day  after  his  companions.  Showing 
the  scalp  of  the  Indian,  he  claimed  his  reward,  which 
was  immediately  paid  to  him. 

Among  the  most  celebrated  exploits  of  Weitzel, 
was  his  massacre  of  three  savages  while  on  one  of 
his  fall  hunts.  Traveling  through  the  forest,  near  the 
bank  of  the  Muskingum  River,  he  fell,  one  night,  upon 
a  camp  of  four  Indians.  In  spite  of  the  great  odds 
necessarily  attending  the  attempt,  he  determined  to 
rush  into  their  midst,  and,  while  they  lay  asleep, 
dispatch  them.  The  adventure  is  thus  related  by 
one  of  Weitzel's  biographers : 

"At  the  hour  of  midnight  he  moved  cautiously 
from  his  covert,  and,  gliding  through  the  darkness, 
stealthily  approached  the  camp,  supporting  his  rifle 
in  one  hand  and  a  tomahawk  in  the  other.  A  dim 
flicker  from  the  camp-fire  faintly  revealed  the  forms 
of  the  sleepers,  wrapped  in  that  profound  slumber 
which,  to  part  of  them,  was  to  know  no  waking. 
There  they  lay,  with  their  dark  faces  turned  up  to  the 
night-sky,  in  the  deep  solitude  of  their  own  wilder- 
ness, little  dreaming  that  their  most  relentless  enemy 
was  hovering  over  them.  Quietly  resting  his  gun 
against  a  tree,  he  unsheathed  his  knife,  and,  with  an 
intrepidity  that  could  never  be  surpassed,  stepped 
boldly  forward,  like  the  minister  of  death,  and,  quick 


THE    ADVENTURES    OF    LEWIS    WEITZEL.  269 

as  thought,  cleft  the  skull  of  one  of  his  sleeping  vic- 
tims. In  an  instant  a  second  one  was  similarly  served ; 
and  as  a  third  attempted  to  rise,  confused  by  the 
horrid  yells  with  which  Weitzel  accompanied  his 
blows,  he  too  shared  the  fate  of  his  companions,  and 
sank  dead  at  the  feet  of  his  ruthless  slayer.  The 
fourth  darted  into  the  darkness  of  the  wood  and  es- 
caped, although  Weitzel  pursued  him  some  distance. 
Returning  to  camp,  he  scalped  his  victims,  and  then 
left  for  home.  When  asked,  on  his  return,  what 
luck?  "Not  much,"  he  replied.  "I  treed  four  Indians, 
but  one  got  away."  This  unexampled  achievement 
stamped  him  as  one  of  the  most  daring  and,  at  the 
same  time,  successful  hunters  of  his  day.  The  dis- 
tance to  and  from  the  scene  of  this  adventure  could 
not  have  been  less  than  one  hundred  and  seventy 
miles." 

In  illustration  of  the  profound  sagacity  of  this 
bold  hunter,  the  two  following  incidents  are  com- 
mended to  the  attention  of  the  reader: 

The  Indians  had  a  practice  of  decoying  hunters 
and  woodsmen  by  imitating  the  cry  of  the  wild  turkey, 
which  some  of  them  uttered  to  perfection.  In  the 
neighborhood  of  Wheeling  Creek,  two  or  three  men, 
who  had  gone  out  to  hunt,  upon  hearing  this  decep- 
tive call,  had  never  returned,  and,  though  the  turkey 
decoy  was  not  known  among  the  settlers  at  that  time, 
Weitzel,  reflecting  upon  the  matter,  became  con- 
vinced that  the  disappearance  of  the  hunters  was 
owing  to  some  such  cause. 

Keeping  on  the  alert  for  two  or  three  days  after- 


27O  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

ward,  Weitzel  heard  the  turkey-call  several  times,  and, 
remarking  that  it  came  from  a  single  direction,  he  de- 
termined to  investigate  matters.  He  knew  that,  on 
the  hill  from  which  the  sound  came,  there  was  a  large 
cavern,  whose  entrance  was  very  narrow  and  entirely 
concealed  by  a  thick  growth  of  bushes.  Hoping-  to 
get  a  shot  at  an  Indian  before  breakfast,  he  shoul- 
dered his  gun  one  morning  about  day-break,  and, 
climbing  the  hill,  took  a  circuitous  route,  reached  the 
spot,  and  posted  himself  behind  a  tree  in  front  of  the 
opening  of  the  cave. 

In  the  course  of  about  half  an  hour  his  vigilance  was 
rewarded.  The  twisted  tuft  of  a  warrior  was  thrust 
from  the  opening,  and  the  savage,  after  peering 
cautiously  around,  uttered  the  long,  shrill,  and  pecul- 
iar cry,  and  then  drew  back  into  the  darkness  of  the 
cave.  Weitzel  placed  himself  in  readiness,  cocked 
his  gun,  rested  its  muzzle  on  the  ledge  of  a  rock, 
and  awaited  expectantly  the  second  appearance  of 
the  Indian.  Presently  the  tuft  was  again  thrust  forth, 
and  the  warrior,  straining  his  head  forward,  prepared 
to  utter  the  deceptive  cry.  Scarcely  had  he  given  the 
first  note,  when  Weitzel  pulled  the  trigger  of  his  rifle 
and  sent  a  bullet  into  his  brain.  The  Indian  fell 
sprawling  on  the  ground,  and  the  successful  hunter, 
taking  his  scalp,  set  out  for  home,  well  satisfied  with 
the  issue  of  the  morning's  adventure.  On  the  way 
he  met  two  men  from  the  fort,  who,  hearing  the  cry, 
had  taken  their  rifles  and  started  out  with  the  hope 
of  killing  game.  In  reply  to  their  inquiries,  Weitzel 
told  them  that  they  had  best  return,  since  he  had 


THE    ADVENTURES    OF    LEWIS    WEITZEL.  271 

been  ahead  of  them  and  taken  all  the  game  that  was 
to  be  found  in  the  neighborhood.  He  then  showed 
the  scalp  of  the  Indian  and  related  his  adventure. 
Tradition  does  not  say  whether  the  turkey  decoy  was 
employed  afterward  by  the  Indians  in  the  neighbor- 
hood of  Wheeling  Creek,  but  it  is  certain  that  no 
more  incautious  hunters  were  entrapped  by  it.* 

Another  incident  which  strikingly  illustrates  the 
great  sagacity  and  cunning  of  Lewis  Weitzel  is  thus 
related  by  the  writer  from  whom  we  have  already 
quoted: 

"Returning  homeward  from  a  hunt  north  of  the 
Ohio,  somewhat  fatigued  and  a  little  careless  of  his 
movements,  he  suddenly  espied  an  Indian  in  the 
very  act  of  raising  his  gun  to  fire.  Both  immedi- 
ately sprang  to  trees ;  and  here  they  stood  for  an 
hour,  each  afraid  of  the  other.  What  was  to  be 
done?  To  remain  there  during  the  whole  day — for 
it  was  then  early  in  the  morning — was  out  of  the 
question.  Now  it  was  that  the  sagacity  of  Weitzel 
displayed  itself  over  the  child-like  simplicity  of  the 
savage.  Cautiously  adjusting  his  bear-skin  cap  to 
the  end  of  his  ramrod — with  the  slightest,  most  du- 
bious, and  hesitating  motion,  as  though  afraid  to 
venture  a  glance,  the  cap  protruded.  An  instant,  a 
crack,  and  off  was  torn  the  fatal  cap  by  the  sure  ball 
of'the  vigilant  savage.  Leaping  from  his  retreat,  our 
hero  rapidly  advanced  upon  the  astonished  Indian, 
and,  ere  the  tomahawk  could  be  brought  to  its  work 


*  A  similar  story  is  told  in  Hall's  "  Romance  of  Western  History,"  of  Captain  William 
Linn. 


272  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

of  death,  the  tawny  foe  sprang  convulsively  into  the 
air,  and,  straightening  as  he  descended,  fell  on  his 
face,  quite  dead." 

The  incident  in  Lewis  Weitzel's  life  which  gave 
him  the  most  trouble,  and  which  has  ever  since  been 
the  means  of  reflecting  discredit  upon  his  name,  with 
a  certain  class  of  people,  was  the  shooting  by  him 
and  Veach  Dickerson  of  the  Indian  George  Wash- 
ington, at  the  time  of  General  Harmar's  expedition, 
pending  negotiations  for  a  peace.  Although  no  jus- 
tification can  fully  exonerate  him  from  blame  for  his 
conduct  on  this  occasion,  and  although  the  harsh 
measures  taken  against  him  by  the  military  authori- 
ties for  his  part  in  the  affair  were,  according  to  the 
principles  of  strict  justice,  entirely  warranted  by  the 
circumstances  of  the  case,  the  judgment  of  reason 
is  that  his  action  was  not  wholly  inexcusable,  and 
that  General  Harmar's  extreme  want  of  leniency  did 
very  .little  credit  to  that  officer's  judicial  character. 
Of  these  things,  however,  we  shall  have  more  to  say 
further  on.  The  following  is  believed  to  be  an  accu- 
rate version  of  the  affair: 

About  the  year  1789,  General  Harmar — so  cele- 
brated in  Western  history  for  his  part  in  the  unfort- 
unate expedition  which  bears  his  name — erected  a 
fort  at  the  mouth  of  the  Muskingum  River,  where 
Marietta  now  stands.  Wishing  to  obtain  the  co- 
operation of  the  neighboring  Indian  tribes,  he  sent 
a  party  of  white  men  with  a  flag  of  truce  to  propose 
a  conference.  In  response  to  Harmar's  proposal,  a 
large  body  of  warriors  came,  on  the  general  invita- 


ADVENTURES    OF    LEWIS    WEITZEL.  273 

tion,  and  encamped  on  the  Muskingum,  a  few  miles 
above  its  mouth.  Negotiations  followed,  and  General 
Harmar  issued  a  proclamation  ordering  a  cessation  of 
arms  among  the  whites. 

On  hearing  of  Harmar's  order,  Weitzel,  who  under- 
stood the  methods  of  war  better  than  the  laws  and 
obligations  of  peace,  declared  that  the  general  was 
either  a  coward  or  a  fool.  Treaties,  he  said,  had  fre- 
quently been  concluded  with  the  red-skins,  but  the 
Indian  nature  was  treacherous  in  the  extreme,  and 
faith  had  never  been  kept.  He  demanded  of  his  com- 
panions whether  they  would  submit  to  see  their  vil- 
lainous enemies  given  an  advantage  by  which  they 
could  carry  every  hostile  design  which  they  might 
have  into  execution.  He  declared  that  he,  for  his 
part,  would  not  recognize  General  Harmar's  authority, 
but  would  continue  to  fight  Indians  as  before;  and,  if 
the  general  had  aught  to  say  against  his  conduct,  he 
would  take  care  that  every  thing  should  be  right. 

In  fulfillment  of  the  resolution  which  he  had  formed, 
Weitzel  proposed  to  one  of  his  comrades,  Veach  Dick- 
erson,  that  they  should  go  to  Fort  Harmar,  conceal 
themselves  on  the  road  between  the  fort  and  the  camp, 
and,  lying  in  wait,  kill  the  first  Indian  who  made  his 
appearance.  An  opportunity,  he  said,  would  soon 
offer,  since  it  was  natural  to  suppose  that  parties  were 
constantly  passing  to  and  from  the  fort.  Leaving  the 
settlement  at  Mingo  Bottom, — where  Weitzel  was 
living  at  that  time, — the  two  friends  set  out  on  their 
enterprise,  and  in  a  short  time  arrived  in  the  neigh- 
borhood of  the  Indian  encampment.  Concealing 


274  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

themselves  by  the  wayside,  they  waited  patiently  for 
the  appearance  of  their  intended  victim. 

After  lying  for  a  few  hours,  they  heard  the  tramp 
of  a  horse  approaching  at  full  speed  from  the  direc- 
tion of  the  camp.  Soon  it  came  within  view,  and 
Weitzel  and  Dickerson  saw  that  its  rider  was  a  tall, 
thickset  savage.  He  was  covered  from  head  to  foot 

o 

with  ornaments,  and  was  evidently  a  warrior  of  rank. 
Weitzel  told  his  companion  that  they  must  not  let 
this  fellow  escape  them;  and,  waiting  until  he  came 
opposite,  Weitzel  raised  his  gun,  and  yelled  to  the 
Indian  to  halt.  As  the  horse  was  going  at  great 
speed,  the  sound  of  his  voice  was  drowned,  and  the 
order  was  not  heard.  The  Indian  passed  at  a  hard 
gallop ;  but  the  men,  determined  not  to  be  disap- 
pointed, took  a  quick  aim  and  fired  simultaneously. 
To  their  mortification,  the  savage  did  not  drop, 
although,  from  a  plunging  motion  which  he  made 
in  his  saddle,  he  was  evidently  wounded.  He 
spurred  his  horse  and  rode  on.  Weitzel  watched  him 
until  he  disappeared  in  the  distance ;  and  then,  tak- 
ing his  comrade's  arm,  beat  a  hasty  retreat,  for  he 
knew  that  the  camp,  on  hearing  that  the  warrior  had 
been  shot  at,  would  be  alarmed,  and  that  the  Indians 
would  take  immediate  steps  to  arrest  the  aggressor. 
The  two  men  made  their  escape  without  being  seen, 
and  soon  after  arrived  home  in  safety.  On  being 
asked  by  their  neighbors  what  success  they  had  had, 
Weitzel  replied  that  fortune  had  been  against  them. 
They  had  seen  but  one  Indian,  he  said,  and  he  had 
escaped.  But,  he  added,  although  the  fellow  had  not 


THE    ADVENTURES    OF    LEWIS    WEITZEL.  I1] '5 

dropped,  he  appeared  to  have  been  tickled  by  some- 
thing, for  he  rode  off  scratching  his  back  as  if  he  had 
been  stung  by  a  yellow-jacket.  The  truth  is,  Weitzel 
and  Dickerson  had  not  shot  so  ill  as  appearances 
indicated,  for  they  soon  heard  that  the  savage  had 
indeed  been  hit.  The  balls  both  took  effect,  one 
entering  his  hip,  and  the  other  the  small  of  his  back. 
The  Indian  rode  to  the  fort,  and  soon  after  expired 
from  the  effects  of  his  wound. 

As  soon  as  the  news  of  his  death  was  carried  to 
the  encamped  body  of  Indians,  they  were  thrown 
into  the  most  intense  excitement.  Thronging  to  the 
fort  in  great  numbers,  they  with  one  voice  accused 
Lewis  Weitzel  of  the  murder;  and,  furiously  threat- 
ening vengeance,  they  demanded  Harmar  to  at  once 
arrest  and  execute  the  criminal.  They  declared  that, 
unless  some  decisive  step  was  taken  by  way  of  pun- 
ishment, they  would  instantly  break  off  all  friendly 
relations,  and  take  the  war-path. 

When  the  general  heard  of  the  outrage,  he  fell  into 
a  most  violent  passion.  But  when  he  was  told  that 
the  offender  was  Lewis  Weitzel,  his  rage  knew  no 
bounds.  He  might,  he  declared,  have  been  induced 
to  look  with  lenity  on  the  crime,  had  it  been  perpe- 
trated by  one  of  his  own  followers;  for  men  who 
profess  the  calling  of  arms  are  constantly  having 
their  little  disagreements  and  brawls.  But  it  was 
quite  another  matter,  he  said,  when  a  rude,  beastly, 
semi-barbarous  back-woodsman  presumed  to  delib- 
erately set  his  authority  at  defiance,  and  take  the 
chastisement  of  the  Indians  into  his  own  hands ;  and 


276  THE   BACK-WOODSMEN. 

he  swore  that,  if  Weitzel  was  ever  caught,  he  should 
pay  for  his  act  with  his  life. 

Determined  to  make  every  effort  to  bring  the 
criminal  to  justice,  General  Harmar  sent  a  company 
of  men,  commanded  by  a  captain  Kingsbury,  to 
Mingo  Bottom,  with  orders  to  take  Lewis  Weitzel, 
dead  or  alive.  The  captain,  thinking  that  nothing 
could  be  easier  than  to  perform  a  mission  of  this 
character,  made  the  journey  in  a  boat;  and,  arriv- 
ing at  the  settlement,  landed,  and  sent  a  messen- 
ger to  Major  McMahan,  demanding  the  person  of 
Weitzel. 

It  happened  that  on  this  day  there  was  a  shooting- 
match  among  the  settlers.  Weitzel,  as  usual,  had 
borne  off  the  palm,  and,  as  he  had  given  some  very 
remarkable  proofs  of  his  skill  with  the  rifle,  his  friends 
were  never  in  a  worse  mood  to  part  with  him.  On 
the  arrival  of  the  boat  containing  Captain  Kingsbury's 
party,  the  object  of  their  mission  was  at  once  guessed, 
and  the  news  was  spread  that  the  officers  had  come 
to  apprehend  the  bold  hunter.  A  company  of  angry 
men  at  once  gathered,  and,  going  to  the  place  where 
Weitzel  stood  conversing  with  a  few  friends,  the  in- 
telligence was  communicated  to  him.  On  receiving 
the  information,  Weitzel  gave  a  fierce  look,  and 
seized  his  gun,  savagely  swearing  vengeance.  His 
anger  was  roused  to  such  a  pitch  that  he  ordered 
his  companions  to  form  and  follow  him  to  the  river 
bank,  as  he  intended  to  give  the  presumptuous  offi- 
cers a  lesson  that  they  would  not  be  likely  soon  to 
forget.  The  men  surrounded  him  with  a  cheer,  and 


ADVENTURES    OF    LEWIS    WEITZEL.  277 

the  party  proceeded  to  execute  the  plan,  when  they 
were  met  by  Major  McMahan,  who,  representing  the 
matter  in  a  different  light,  prevailed  upon  them  to 
wait  until  the  officers  should  make  an  aggressive 
movement  before  resenting.  He  then  went  to  Cap- 
tain Kingsbury  and  told  him  of  the  temper  of  the 
settlers,  advising  him  to  be  off  at  once  if  he  did  not 
wish  to  have  every  man  in  the  country  upon  him. 
Kingsbury,  seeing  the  determined  attitude  taken  by 
the  settlers  on  the  shore,  at  once  gave  the  word  to 
pull  off,  and  the  boat  was  started  on  its  return.  As 
it  rowed  up  the  stream,  Weitzel  gazed  after  it  with 
a  fierce  look,  and  several  times  felt  impelled  to  follow 
it  and  lay  an  ambush.  He  checked  himself,  however, 
and  quietly  returned  to  his  cabin,  regarding  the  affair 
as  settled. 

About  a  month  after  the  attempt  of  Captain  Kings- 
bury,  Weitzel,  thinking  that  every  thing  had  been 
forgotten,  and  that  he  was  as  free  to  go  and  come 
at  pleasure  as  any  man  in  the  country,  got  into  a 
canoe,  with  the  intention  of  proceeding  down  the 
Ohio  for  a  hunt  in  the  wilds  of  Kentucky.  On  ar- 
riving in  the  neighborhood  of  Fort  Harmar,  he  was 
seen  and  recognized  by  a  soldier,  who  immediately 
carried  word  to  his  commander.  As  it  was  near 
dark,  Weitzel  concluded  to  go  no  further  that  day, 
and  accordingly  landed  on  an  island  opposite  the 
fort,  designing  to  pass  the  night  with  a  friend  named 
Hamilton  Carr.  He  was  cordially  received  and  given 
shelter.  About  midnight  a  company  of  soldiers 
rowed  over  from  the  fort,  and,  while  some  surrounded 


278  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN, 

Mr.  Carr's  house,  others  entered,  and,  overpowering 
Weitzel  as  he  lay  asleep,  bound  him  hand  and  foot, 
carried  him  to  a  boat,  and  took  him  to  General  Har- 
mar,  who  ordered  him  to  be  chained  and  placed  in  the 
guard-room. 

For  two  days  Weitzel  remained  handcuffed  and 
hobbled  in  close  confinement,  scarcely  able  to  pace 
from  one  side  of  his  narrow  chamber  to  the  other. 
The  ignominy  of  being  thus  treated  as  a  criminal  was, 
to  one  of  his  upright  character,  unendurable,  and  he 
felt  the  disgrace  keenly.  But  when  he  remembered 
the  cause  of  this  harsh  usage,  and  reflected  that,  for 
an  act  which  he  regarded  as  entirely  legitimate,  and, 
indeed,  patriotic,  he  was  now  chained  like  a  common 
murderer,  and  would,  in  all  probability,  be  hanged 
like  one,  he  grew  frantic  with  indignation.  He  finally 
determined  to  remonstrate  with  General  Harmar,  or, 
at  least,  to  know  that  officer's  purpose.  He  accord- 
ingly called  the  guard  and  requested  him  to  send 
word  to  the  general  that  he  desired  an  interview. 

Harmar,  in  response  to  Weitzel's  message,  came  to 
see  him.  The  prisoner  admitted,  without  hesitation, 
although  without  the  slightest  bravado,  that  he  had 
shot  an  Indian.  In  very  plain  language  he  told  the 
general  his  motives,  and  asked  him  what  he  intended 
to  do.  General  Harmar  replied  that  the  military 
law  would  have  to  take  its  course.  The  punishment 
for  so  grave  an  offense,  he  said,  was  summary,  and 
execution  would  probably  be  the  result. 

At  this  information,  Weitzel  told  his  visitor  that  he 
had  often  braved  death  in  a  thousand  terrible  shapes. 


THE    ADVENTURES    OF    LEWIS    WEITZEL.  279 

He  said  that  it  had  no  terrors  for  him,  since  he  was, 
and  had  always  been,  a  total  stranger  to  fear.  But, 
he  asserted,  although  he  knew  nothing  of  fear,  and 
would  scorn  to  beg  for  his  life,  he  still  had  some- 
thing of  pride  in  his  nature.  He  could  not  endure 
the  thought  of  dying  like  a  villain  on  the  scaffold,  and 
he  entreated  the  general  not  to  spare  him  from  death, 
if  it  was  indeed  just  that  death  should  be  his  portion, 
but  to  grant  him  the  boon  of  dying  like  a  brave  and 
fearless  man.  He  requested  him  to  turn  him  over  to 
the  Indians,  a  large  number  of  whom  were  encamped 
in  the  immediate  neighborhood,  and  all  of  whom 
thirsted  for  his  blood.  The  whole  band,  he  said, 
might  be  arranged  in  a  circle,  each  with  his  scalping- 
knife  and  tomahawk  drawn.  All  that  he  asked  was 
to  be  given  a  tomahawk  and  placed  in  their  midst. 
This,  he  concluded  by  saying,  would  be  a  just  pun- 
ishment, and  would  insure  his  certain  death.  He  ear- 
nestly entreated  General  Harmar  to  permit  him  to 
die  in  this  manner,  saying  that  he  would  then  die 
content. 

The  general,  after  a  pause,  told  Weitzel  that,  since 
he  was  an  officer  appointed  by  law,  he  must  enforce  the 
law  according  to  the  forms  prescribed.  He  had  no 
authority  to  make  such  a  compromise,  and  he  could 
not,  therefore,  grant  his  prisoner's  request.  With 
these  words,  he  took  his  departure. 

Weitzel  now  knew  that  the  ignominious  death  of 
the  criminal  would  soon  fall  to  his  lot.  Each  day  he 
regarded  the  next  as  the  day  of  his  doom.  Finally, 
his  confinement  growing  intolerably  irksome,  he  again 


280  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

sent  for  General  Harmar  to  come  and  see  him.  The 
general  came.  Weitzel  told  him  that  he  had  never 
been  imprisoned  before,  and,  saying-  that  he  would 
soon  die  unless  he  was  allowed  to  take  exercise,  re- 
quested the  privilege  of  walking  awhile  in  the  open 
air.  General  Harmar,  acceding  to  Weitzel's  request, 
ordered  the  officer  to  knock  off  his  iron  fetters,  but 
to  leave  on  his  handcuffs,  and  then  to  lead  him  to 
walk  on  the  point  at  the  mouth  of  the  Muskingum 
River,  but  not  to  fail  to  keep  a  strict  watch  upon 
him.  With  this  order,  he  again  left. 

The  fetters  had  no  sooner  been  taken  from  Weitz- 
el's legs  than  he  gave  a  loud  whoop,  and,  knocking 
his  feet  together,  jumped  two  or  three  times  into  the 
air,  by  way  of  giving  expression  to  his  extreme  joy 
at  again  having  the  free  use  of  his  limbs.  When  he 
was  led  into  the  prison-yard,  his  delight  was  seem- 
ingly past  all  bounds,  and,  telling  his  guard  to  stand 
still  for  a  moment,  he  ran  off  a  few  feet,  and  then, 
after  several  capers,  made  a  sudden  rush,  and,  at  one 
spring,  leaped  over  the  astonished  keeper's  head. 
Striking  the  ground,  he  repeated  the  feat  before  the 
guard  had  time  to  turn,  and  then,  fearing  lest  he 
should  be  suspected  of  a  design  to  escape,  and 
again  confined,  he  ran  several  times  around  him,  cut- 
ting the  most  extravagant  capers  as  he  did  so.  The 
guard,  unable  to  retain  his  gravity,  burst  into  a  loud 
laugh,  .and,  greatly  amused  at  the  prisoner's  actions, 
accompanied  him  out  of  the  inclosure  toward  the 
point.  He  had,  however,  gone  only  a  few  steps  from 
the  fort  gate,  when  he  stopped,  and,  grasping 


Chimney  RocU,  Island  of  MacMnac. 


WEITZEL  ESCAPES  FROM  THE  GUARDS. 


THE    ADVENTURES    OF    LEWIS    WEITZEL.  283 

Weitzel  by  the  collar  of  his  coat,  led  him  back  into 
the  yard.  Calling  two  of  his  companions,  who  sat 
smoking  their  pipes  by  the  prison-door,  he  ordered 
them  to  take  their  rifles  and  join  him,  saying  that  the 
prisoner  was  uncommonly  frisky,  and,  if  disposed, 
miorht  make  trouble. 

o 

Arrived,  under  the  charge  of  his  escort,  at  the 
point,  Weitzel  again  commenced  his  wild  antics.  He 
frisked  and -capered  like  a  young  colt  broke  loose 
from  the  stall,  and,  by  his  playful  leaps  and  extrav- 
agant actions,  .soon  had  the  guards  in  a  constant  roar 
of  laughter.  He  would  start  and  run  a  few  yards 
with  incredible  swiftness,  as  if  about  to  attempt  an 
escape,  but,  just  at  the  moment  that  the  guards  pre- 
pared to  follow  in  pursuit,  he  would  suddenly  check 
himself,  turn  a  series  of  somersaults,  and  rejoin 
them.  In  this  way  he  distracted  their  attention  for 
some  time,  and,  calculating  the  distance  at  each  start, 
succeeded  in  getting  farther  and  farther  away. 
Finally,  feeling  that  the  critical  moment  had  come,  he 
called  forth  all  his  power,  activity  and  resolution, 
and,  boldly  dashing  off,  he  ran  with  the  swiftness  of 
the  deer  for  the  adjoining  wood.  The  guards  looked 
at  him  for  a  few  seconds  in  a  careless,  idle  manner, 
thinking  that  his  only  object  was  to  show  them  the 
great  physical  resources  which  he  possessed.  In  a 
moment,  however,  they  comprehended  his  purpose, 
and  yelled  to  him  to  stop.  He  did  not  heed  their 
cry,  and,  realizing  that  he  was  indeed  bound  on 
escape,  they  fired.  All  of  their  balls  missed,  and, 

astonished  and  bewildered,  they  stood  for  a  moment 
IT 


284  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

looking  after  the  fugitive.  As  soon  as  they  recov- 
ered from  their  surprise,  two  of  them  started  in  pur- 
suit, while  the  third  ran  back  to  raise  the  alarm. 

In  the  meantime  Weitzel  had  made  such  good  use 
of  his  advantage  that  he  had  gained  the  forest.  He 
was  perfectly  familiar  with  the  country,  and  he  at 
once  made  for  a  dense  thicket  at  the  distance  of  two 
or  three  miles.  He  reached  his  objective  point  in 
safety,  and,  after  making  a  quick  examination  of  the 
position,  concealed  himself  under  a  tree  which  had 
fallen  across  a  log,  where  the  brush  was  so  close 
that  he  could  scarcely  force  his  way  through,  and 
that  only  the  narrowest  examination  could  result  in 
discovery. 

Weitzel  lay  in  his  hiding-place  for  about  half  an 
hour  before  he  heard  any  sound  to  indicate  that  he 
was  pursued.  At  the  end  of  this  time  a  troop  of 
horsemen  came  crashing  through  the  trees,  but  they 
passed  on  without  stopping.  In  the  course  of  another 
half  hour  he  heard  loud  whoops  in  every  direction, 
and  he  knew  that  the  Indians  had  been  set  on  his 
trail.  Soon  the  wood  was  perfectly  alive  with  his 
enemies,  whom  he  heard  passing  and  repassing  every 
few  minutes.  Nearly  all  of  them,  however,  were  in 
hot  pursuit,  and  passed  the  thicket  without  stopping 
to  examine  its  recesses. 

When  WTeitzel  had  lain  for  about  two  hours,  two 
Indians  halted  under  a  tree  a  few  yards  from  his 
hiding-place,  and  commenced  to  converse  in  very 
earnest  tones.  Weitzel  could  hear  that  they  were 
disputing  about  the  probable  course  which  he  had 


THE    ADVENTURES    OF    LEWIS   WEITZEL.  285 

taken,  and  his  heart  sank  within  him  when  one  of 
them  said  that  he  was  convinced  that  the  fugitive 
had  not  run  far,  and  was,  in  his  opinion,  hidden  some- 
where among  the  bushes.  They  then  advanced  to 
the  thicket,  and  began  to  beat  it  carefully.  Finally 
they  climbed  on  the  log  under  which  he  lay,  and, 
striking  the  thick  brush,  they  almost  touched  his  body 
with  their  clubs.  Weitzel's  heart  beat  so  violently 
that  he  feared  they  would  hear  its  thumping,  and, 
drawing  himself  back,  he  lay  in  momentary  expecta- 
tion of  being  jerked  from  his  hiding-place.  In  a 
short  time  the  Indians  passed  on,  and  Weitzel  could 
hear  them  hallooing  in  every  direction  as  they 
marched  ahead  continuing  their  search. 

The  day  wore  on,  and  one  by  one  the  pursuing 
parties  returned.  Evening  succeeded,  and  Weitzel 
found  himself  alone  in  its  favoring  shades.  He  had 
made  a  bold  dash  for  liberty,  and  escaped  from  the 
clutches  of  the  guards.  Their  bullets  had  passed 
him  without  doing  him  injury;  and  he  had,  at  least 
for  the  moment,  eluded  his  legion  of  pursuers.  So 
far,  all  was  good ;  but  what  assurance  had  he  for  the 
future?  In  all  probability  some  of  his  enemies  were 
still  lurking  in  the  neighborhood.  He  was  hand- 
cuffed, and  could  not  defend  himself.  He  might,  in- 
deed, wander  through  the  forest  without  being  dis- 
covered, but  how  was  he  to  live  ?  He  had  no  friends 
on  the  Ohio  side  of  the  river,  and  he  could  not  cross 
by  swimming.  But,  although  every  thing  seemed  to 
be  against  him,  he  was  too  brave  and  hopeful  to 
despair,  and,  leaving  his'  place  of  concealment,  he 


286  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

again  pushed  boldly  forward,  determined  that,  though 
he  might  not  secure  success,  he  would  at  least  strive 
to  deserve  it. 

Taking  a  circuitous  route,  he  avoided  the  immedi- 
ate neighborhood  of  the  fort,  and  in  a  few  hours 
reached  the  Ohio  River,  about  four  miles  below.  He 
selected  a  point  which  was  entirely  isolated,  for  he 
knew  that  guards  would  be  stationed  at  every  place 
where  a  canoe  was  to  be  had.  Following  the  course 
of  the  stream,  he  traveled  for  a  short  distance,  when 
he  saw,  by  the  light  of  the  moon,  a  man  fishing  in  a 
boat  on  the  opposite  side,  whom  he  recognized  as  an 
acquaintance  named  Isaac  Wiseman.  As  he  was 
not  sure  whether  he  was  yet  out  of  sight  and  hear- 
ing of  his  enemies,  he  did  not  dare  to  call,  and  there- 
fore resorted  to  a  different  expedient.  He  took  a 
stick  and  commenced  to  gently  plash  the  water,  seek- 
ing to  attract  his  friend's  attention.  In  a  few  mo- 
ments Mr.  Wiseman,  hearing  the  noise,  looked  round, 
and  Weitzel  took  off  his  hat  and  waved  it  over  his 
head.  He  finally  succeeded  in  catching  Wiseman's 
eye,  who  presently  recognized  him,  and  came  to  his 
assistance.  Weitzel  was  rowed  to  the  Virginia  shore ; 
a  file  and  hammer  soon  released  him  from  the  hand- 
cuffs, and,  after  a  night's  rest,  he  set  out  in  a  canoe 
for  Kentucky,  with  a  rifle,  ammunition  and  blanket, 
which  had  been  given  him  by  his  friend. 

Not  long  after  his  arrival  in  Kentucky,  Weitzel 
learned  that  General  Harmar,  far  from  permitting  the 
matter  to  drop,  had  proclaimed  him  throughout  the 
country  as  an  outlaw,  and  set  a  large  price  on  his 


THE    ADVENTURES    OF    LEWIS   WEITZEL.  287 

head.  This  officer  had  recently  changed  his  head- 
quarters to  Fort  Washington,  at  Cincinnati,  and  one 
of  his  first  official  acts,  on  taking  command  of  his 
new  post,  was  to  renew  his  offers  of  reward  for  the 
apprehension  and  delivery  of  the  man  whom  he  still 
insisted  on  declaring  the  arch-rogue  of  the  Western 
borders. 

Although  Weitzel  knew  that  he  carried  his  life  in 
his  hands,  his  bold  and  fearless  spirit  scorned  to 
adopt  even  the  commonest  of  precautionary  meas- 
ures. He  ranged  from  settlement  to  settlement  with 
the  greatest  impunity,  and  took  no  steps  whatever  to 
conceal  his  identity.  One  day,  while  hunting  near 
the  mouth  of  the  Kanawha  River,  he  accidentally 
encountered  Captain  Kingsbury,  the  same  officer 
who  had,  on  a  previous  occasion,  been  sent  to  take 
him  from  Mingo  Bottom.  Weitzel  saw  Kingsbury 
first,  and  halted  instantly  in  the  path,  placing  himself 
in  readiness  for  any  emergency.  Captain  Kingsbury, 
who  was  a  brave  and  generous  man,  and  who, 
although  he  held  Weitzel's  occupation  in  the  great- 
est detestation,  had  a  true  respect  and  admiration 
for  the  man,  faced  the  hunter  with  a  firm  and  fearless 
gaze,  but  made  no  movement  by  way  of  offense. 
Weitzel  knew  and  honored  the  officer  as  a  man  of 
the  most  irreproachable  character  and  undoubted 
bravery,  and  he,  also,  forbore  to  make  an  attack. 
After  gazing  for  awhile  at  each  other,  the  two  men 
both  slowly  and  guardedly  retired  without  coming  to 
blows,  and  almost  without  speaking  a  word. 

Soon  after  his  meeting  with  Captain  Kingsbury, 


288  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

Weitzel,  while  -sitting  one  day  in  a  tavern  in  Mays- 
ville,  Kentucky,  was  seen  by  Lieutenant  Lawler,  of 
the  regular  army,  who  had  stopped  at  that  place 
while  on  his  way  to  Fort  Washington  with  a  body 
of  troops.  The  lieutenant,  on  recognizing  the  stal- 
wart hunter,  quickly  ordered  out  a  file  of  soldiers ; 
and  Weitzel,  although  he  made  a  stout  resistance, 
was  seized  and  dragged  to  a  boat,  which  was  im- 
mediately pushed  off.  On  that  evening  the  fort 
was  reached,  and  the  prisoner  was  delivered  up  to 
General  Harmar.  He  was  immediately  loaded  with 
heavy  chains  and  thrown  into  a  strong  room,  while 
the  general,  determined  that  he  should  not  again 
escape  justice,  prepared  to  hold  his  trial  and  obtain 
his  condemnation  forthwith. 

Every  ray  of  hope  was  now,  to  all  appearance,  ex- 
tinguished. General  Harmar,  deaf  to  all  appeals  in 
behalf  of  the  unfortunate  man,  and  unmindful  of  the 
strong  arguments  advanced  in  extenuation  of  his 
offense,  was  sternly  unrelenting.  Several  of  his  offi- 
cers, whose  admiration  of  the  courageous  character 
of  the  adventurous  frontiersman  knew  no  bounds, 
earnestly  interceded  for  him,  but  the  resolution  of 
the  general  would  not  be  shaken.  The  rank  and 
file  of  the  soldiery  were  thoroughly  in  sympathy 
with  Weitzel ;  and  their  murmurs  were  loud  and 
ominous  when  it  was  reported  that  he  was  to  be 
hanged  simply  because  he  had  offended  by  killing 
an  Indian.  Finally,  the  whole  country  was  aroused, 
and  petitions  were  sent  in  for  the  prisoner's  release 
from  all  quarters  and  by  all  classes.  The  settlers 


THE   ADVENTURES    OF    LEWIS    WEITZEL.  289 

were  furious  and  indignant;  they  armed  and  pro- 
posed to  effect  Weitzel's  liberation  by  force,  and 
General  Harmar  soon  saw  that  the  flame  of  revolt 
was  kindling,  and  that,  unless  he  made  a  conces- 
sion, his  authority  would  speedily  be  set  at  naught. 
Under  these  circumstances,  representations  were 
made  which  warranted  Judge  Symmes  in  issuing  a 
writ  of  habeas  corpus;  Weitzel  was  set  at  liberty, 
and  quiet  was  restored.  He  was  escorted  by  the 
settlers  to  Columbia,  a  town  in  the  vicinity  of  Fort 
Washington,  in  triumph.  A  supper  was  given  in 
his  honor ;  and,  when  he  was  ready  to  set  out  on 
his  return  to  Virginia,  he  was  presented  by  his  ad- 
mirers with  a  fine  rifle,  a  handsome  shot-pouch  belt, 
and  a  sum  of  money,  and  accompanied  a  portion  of 
the  distance  by  an  enthusiastic  party  of  friends. 

Thus  ended  this  memorable  affair.  Weitzel  was 
not  again  molested,  although  General  Harmar  still 
believed  him  to  richly  merit  the  punishment  of 
death ;  and  he  could  never  afterward  be  persuaded 
that  he  had  not  done  a  very  unwarrantable  act  in 
allowing  what  he  regarded  to  be  a  most  heinous 
crime  to  pass  in  review  without  the  application  of 
the  strictest  measures  of  the  military  law.  In  con- 
sidering the  case  at  this  length  of  time,  we  can  not 
but  conclude  that  the  part  borne  in  it  by  General 
Harmar  was  most  unenviable.  Viewed  according  to 
the  principles  of  abstract  justice,  Weitzel's  offense 
certainly  merited  the  death  sentence.  But  when  it 
is  remembered  that  the  offender,  far  from  being 
actuated  by  criminal  motives,  had  the  most  patriotic 


THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

object  in  view;  and  that,  although  he  was  not  jus- 
tified in  his  course  by  men  of  cool  judgment,  his 
case  was  pleaded  and  clemency  was  solicited  by 
every  person  in  the  Western  settlements,  it  is  hard 
to  believe  that  the  enforcement  of  strict  measures 
against  him  would  have  been  in  the  interest  of  the 
general  welfare. 

Soon  after  Weitzel's  release  from  imprisonment 
an  incident  occurred  which  forcibly  illustrates  the 
truth  of  this  observation.  A  week  or  two  subse- 
quent to  his  arrival  in  Virginia  he  received  a  visit 
from  a  relative  who  lived  at  a  settlement  called 
Dunkard  Creek.  Preparing  to  return,  he  invited 
Weitzel  to  accompany  him.  The  invitation  was  ac- 
cepted, and  the  two  went  on  their  way,  hunting  and 
sporting  as  they  journeyed  along. 

In  a  few  days  the  home  o£  the  young  man  was 
reached ;  but  to  his  dismay  and  grief  he  found,  in- 
stead of  the  hospitable  roof,  a  pile  of  smoking 
ruins.  The  cabin  had  evidently  been  attacked  and 
burned,  and  its  inmates  either  killed  or  carried 
off  by  Indians.  Overcome  with  sorrow,  the  young 
man  threw  himself  on  the  ground  and  wept  bit- 
terly. Weitzel,  in  the  meantime,  quickly  examined 
the  ground,  and,  discovering  the  trail,  found  that 
the  attacking  party  consisted  of  three  Indians,  and 
that  they  had  taken  away  one  captive.  The  print 
of  a  small  shoe  in  the  damp  earth  revealed  the  fact 
that  the  prisoner  was  a  young  woman;  and  Weitzel, 
communicating  this  to  his  companion,  was  told  by 
the  unfortunate  youth  that  she  was  his  sweetheart, 


THE    ADVENTURES    OF    LEWIS   WEITZEL.  29 1 

who  had  recently  come  to  live  with  his  parents.  The 
two  hunters  determined  to  start  in  instant  pursuit. 
Weitzel  took  the  lead,  and,  although  the  Indians 
had  carefully  covered  their  tracks,  his  sagacity  and 
quickness  of  perception  enabled  him  to  follow  the 
trail  rapidly  and  without  the  least  deviation. 

The  pursuers  traveled  for  a  day  and  a  half  over 
hills  and  through  dense  forests.  A  number  of 
streams  obstructed  their  march,  and  they  were 
obliged  to  stop  several  times  to  hunt  the  trail,, 
which  the  cautious  savages  had  sought  to  conceal 
by  walking  in  the  water.  Toward  evening  of  the 
second  day  the  Ohio  was  reached,  and  Weitzel  dis- 
covered a  smoke  rising  through  the  trees  on  the 
opposite  side,  which  he  immediately  conjectured 
came  from  the  camp-fire  of  the  Indians.  After 
dark  they  swam  across  and  reconnoitered  the  posi- 
tion of  the  enemy.  The  party  was  more  numerous 
than  Weitzel  had  supposed,  consisting  of  one  white 
renegade,  three  savages,  and  the  young  girl. 

On  seeing  his  betrothe'd  the  young  man  grew 
very  impatient,  and  begged  Weitzel  to  make  the 
attack  at  once.  The  wary  hunter,  however,  ordered 
him  to  remain  quiet,  and  said  that  under  no  condi- 
tion was  the  assault  to  be  made  before  daybreak. 
He  told  his  companion  to  lie  down  and  sleep  while 
he  mounted  guard.  The  frantic  lover  reluctantly 
complied,  and  Weitzel  patiently  awaited  the  appear- 
ance of  day. 

Early  in  the  morning  the  savages  rose  from  their 
sleep  and  prepared  to  continue  the  journey.  Weit- 


2Q2  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

zel  ordered  his  companion,  who  did  not  need  to  be 
awakened,  to  take  good  aim  at  the  white  renegade, 
while  he  would  undertake  to  dispatch  one  of  the 
Indians. 

When  every  thing  was  ready,  Weitzel  gave  the 
word,  the  guns  were  discharged  simultaneously, 
and  two  of  the  enemy  dropped  lifeless.  While  his 
companion  rushed  forward  to  free  the  captive, 
Weitzel  reloaded  his  piece,  and  then  started  in  pur- 
suit of  the  other  two  Indians,  who  had  bounded  off 
on  hearing  the  report  of  the  rifles,  and  who,  he  con- 
jectured, had  concealed  themselves  somewhere  in  the 
neighborhood,  waiting  to  ascertain  the  strength  of 
the  attacking  party.  After  running  a  few  yards,  Weit- 
zel discharged  his  gun  at  random,  in  order  to  draw 
them  from  their  retreat.  He  succeeded ;  the  two  sav- 
ages instantly  emerged  from  the  bushes  and  rushed 
toward  him  with  their  tomahawks  raised,  yelling  at 
the  top  of  their  voices.  Weitzel  flew,  reloading  his 
rifle  as  he  did  so.  Soon  prepared,  he  suddenly  turned 
and  shot  the  first  of  his  pursuers  dead.  Discovering 
the  trick  of  the  white  man,  the  other  Indian  bounded 
forward  with  the  utmost  impetuosity,  hoping  to  dis- 
patch him  before  ne  could  again  load;  but  Weitzel 
eluded  him,  and  kept  ahead  until  he  had  charged  his 
piece,  when  he  wheeled,  and,  firing  on  the  moment, 
laid  the  last  of  the  party  bleeding  on  the  ground. 
He  scalped  the  Indians,  and  rejoined  his  friend.  The 
return  journey  was  made  without  delay.  It  is  need- 
less to  add  that  the  young  man  and  his  affianced  bride 
were  but  ill-disposed  to  reproach  General  Harmar  for 


THE    ADVENTURES    OF    LEWIS   WFITZEL.  293 

his  violation  of  the   principles  of  military  justice  in 
setting  Lewis  Weitzel  at  liberty. 

About  the  year  1793,  Weitzel  left  Virginia  and 
paid  a  visit  to  the  extreme  South.  Soon  after  his 
arrival  in  New  Orleans  he  was  seized  by  the  author- 
ities on  some  charge  (the  nature  of  which  is  now 
unknown)  made  against  him  by  a  Spaniard,  and 
thrown  into  prison.  He  remained  in  confinement  for 
many  months.  He  was  finally  released  by  the  inter- 
vention of  the  United  States  government. 

During  the  rest  of  his  career,  Weitzel  followed  a 
restless  and  wandering  life.  He  was  engaged  at 
different  times  in  scouting  and  hunting,  and  locating 
lands.  In  the  pursuit  of  this  last  occupation  he  was 
on  one  occasion  employed  by  John  Madison,  a  brother 
of  the  celebrated  James  Madison,  afterward  Presi- 
dent of  the  United  States,  to  accompany  him  through 
the  Kanawha  region  and  assist  him  in  finding  and 
locating  some  land  which  he  had  purchased.  While 
on  this  expedition  they  came  to  a  hunter's  camp 
which  had,  to  all  appearance,  been  deserted,  and, 
finding  some  goods,  each  helped  himself  to  a  blanket. 
The  next  day  they  were  fired  upon  by  a  party  of 
Indians.  Madison  was  killed  instantly,  but  Weitzel 
was  fortunate  enough  to  be  spared,  and,  although  he 
was  pursued,  he  escaped  without  being  harmed. 

In  1803  the  celebrated  General  Clarke,  the  asso- 
ciate of  Mr.  Lewis  in  the  Lewis  and  Clarke  expedi- 
tion across  the  Rocky  Mountains,  sent  a  messenger 
to  Lewis  Weitzel  requesting  him  to  take  a  part  in 
the  enterprise.  Weitzel  consented,  after  a  great  deal 


2Q4  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

of  hesitation,  and  accompanied  the  party  during  the. 
first  three  months  of  the  tour;  but  at  the  end  of  that 
time  he  grew  tired  and  dissatisfied,  severed  his  con- 
nection with  the  expedition,  and  returned.  For  the 
next  four  or  five  years  he  wandered  from  point  to 
point,  and  finally  settled  in  Na.tchez.  At  this  place 
he  fell  sick,  lingered  for  several  months,  and,  in  the 
summer  of  1818,  died. 

In  person  Lewis  Weitzel  was  a  man  of  striking  ap- 
pearance and  extraordinary  activity  and  power.  He 
is  thus  described  by  one  of  his  acquaintances,  who  has 
left  us  a  very  interesting  account  of  his  adventures: 

"  Lewis  Weitzel  was  about  five  feet  nine  inches 
high.  He  had  a  full  breast,  was  very  broad  across 
the  shoulders ;  his  arms  were  large — his  limbs  were 
not  heavy — his  skin  was  darker  than  his  brothers' — 
his  face  was  considerably  pitted  by  the  small-pox — 
his  hair,  of  which  he  was  very  careful,  reached,  when 
combed  out,  to  the  calves  of  his  legs — his  eyes  were 
remarkably  black,  and  when  excited  (which  was 
easily  done),  they  would  sparkle  with  such  a  vindictive 
glance  as  almost  to  curdle  the  blood  to  look  at  him. 
In  his  appearance  and  gait  there  was  something  dif- 
fer^nt  from  other  men."  .... 

His  character  is  thus  briefly  described  by  the  same 
writer: 

"  Where  he  professed  friendship,  he  was  as  true  as 
the  needle  to  the  pole ;  his  enmity  was  always  dan- 
gerous. In  mixed  company  he  was  a  man  of  few 
words ;  but,  with  his  particular  companions,  he  was 
a  social,  and  even  a  cheerful  companion." 


THE    ADVENTURES    OF    LEWIS    WEITZEL.  295 

The  following  extract  from  an  author,  from  whom 
we  have  drawn  largely  in  the  present  account  of 
Weitzel's  adventures,  will  illustrate  other  traits  in 
his  character: 

"He  threw  into  the  common  treasury  a  soul  as 
heroic,  as  adventurous,  as  full  of  energy  and  ex- 
haustless  of  resources  as  ever  animated  the  human 
breast.  Bold,  wary,  and  active,  he  stood  without  an 
equal  in  the  pursuit  to  which  he  had  committed  him- 
self, mind  and  body.  No  man  on  the  western  frontier 
was  more  dreaded  by  the  enemy,  and  none  did  more 
to  beat  him  back  into  the  heart  of  the  forest,  and 
reclaim  the  expanseless  domain  which  we  now  enjoy. 
He  was  never  known  to  inflict  unwonted  cruelty  upon 
women  and  children,  as  has  been  charged  upon  him; 
and  he  never  was  found  to  torture  and  mutilate  his 
victim,  as  many  of  the  traditions  would  indicate.  He 
was  revengeful,  because  he  had  suffered  deep  injury 
at  the  hands  of  that  race,  and  woe  to  the  Indian  war- 
rior who  crossed  his  path.  He  was  literally  a  man 
without  fear.  He  was  brave  as  a  lion,  cunning  as  a 
fox;  'daring  where  daring  was  the  wiser  part;  pru- 
dent where  discretion  was  valor's  better  self.'  He 
seemed  to  possess  in  a  remarkable  degree  that  intu- 
itive knowledge  which  can  alone  constitute  a  good 
hunter,  added  to  which  he  was  sagacious,  prompt 
to  act,  and  always  aiming  to  render  his  actions 
efficient." 

In  conclusion,  we  can  do  no  better  than  introduce 
the  following  agreeable  and  striking  poem.  It  will 
be  read  with  interest  by  all  who  wish  to  view  the 


296  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

character  of  this  bold,  successful  and  famous  hunter 

at  its  best:* 

LEWIS   WEITZEL. 

Stout-hearted  Lewis  Weitzel 

Rides  down  the  river  shore, 
The  wilderness  behind  him, 

The  wilderness  before. 

He  rides  in  the  cool  -of  morning, 

Humming  a  dear  old  tune, 
Into  the  heart  of  the  greenwood, 

Into  the  heart  of  June. 

He  needs  no  guide  in  the  forest 

More  than  the  hunter  bees; 
His  guides  are  the  cool  green  mosses 

To  the  northward  of  the  trees. 

Nor  fears  he  the  foe  whose  footstep 

Is  light  as  the  summer  air — 
The  tomahawk  hangs  in  his  shirt-belt, 

The  scalp-knife  glitters  there ! 

The  stealthy  Wyandots  tremble, 

And  speak  his  name  with  fear, 
For  his  aim  is  sharp  and  deadly, 

And  his  rifle's  ring  is  clear. 

So,  pleasantly  rides  he  onward, 

Pausing  to  hear  the  stroke 
Of  the  settler's  ax  in  the  forest, 

Or  the  crash  of  a  falling  oak. 

Pausing  at  times  to  gather 

The  wild  fruit  overhead 
(For  in  this  rarest  of  June  days 

The  service-berries  are  red) ; 


'-Written  by  Florus  B.   Plimpton.     (See    p.  334  of  "The   Union  of  American  Poetry  and 
Art."     Edited  by  John  James  Piatt,     Cincinnati :    W.  E.  Dibble  &  Co.) 


THE    ADVENTURES    OF    LEWIS    WEITZEL.  297 

And  as  he  grasps  the  full  boughs 

To  bend  them  down  amain, 
The  dew  and  the  blushing  berries 

Fall  like  an  April  rain. 

The  partridge  drums  on  the  dry  oak, 

The  croaking  corby  caws, 
The  blackbird  sings  in  the  spice-bush, 

The  robin  in  the  haws; 

And,  as  they  chatter  and  twitter, 

The  wild  birds  seem  to  say, 
"Do  not  harm  us,  good  Lewis, 

And  you  shall  have  luck  to-day." 

So,  pleasantly  rides  he  onward, 

'Till  the  shadows  mark  the  noon, 
Into  the  leafy  greenwood, 

Into  the  heart  of  June. 

Now  speed  thee  on,  good  Lewis, 

For  the  sultry  sun  goes  down, 
The  hill-side  shadows  lengthen, 

And  the  eastern  sky  is  brown. 

Now  speed  thee  where  the  river 

Creeps  slow  in  the  coverts  cool, 
And  the  lilies  nod  their  white  bells 

By  the  margin  of  the  pool. 

He  crosses  the  silver  Kaska 

With  its  chestnut-covered  hills, 
And  the  fetlocks  of  his  roan  steed 

Are  wet  in  a  hundred  rills. 

"And  there,"  he  cries  in  transport, 

"The  alders  greenest  grow, 
Where  the  wild  stag  comes  for  water,  , 

And  her  young  fawn  leads  the  doe." 


298  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

Grasping  his  trusty  rifle, 
He  whistles  his  dog  behind, 

Then  stretches  his  finger  upward 
To  know  how  sets  the  wind. 

Oh !  steady  grows  the  strong  arm, 
And  the  hunter's  dark  eye  keen, 

As  he  sees  the  branching  antlers 
Through  alder  thickets  green. 

A  sharp,  clear  ring  through  the  greenwood, 
And  with  mighty  leap  and  bound, 

The  pride  of  the  western  forest 
Lies  bleeding  on  the  ground. 

Then  out  from  the  leafy  shadow 

A  stalwart  hunter  springs, 
And  his  unsheathed  scalp-knife  glittering 

Against  his  rifle  rings. 

"And  who  art  thou,"  quoth  Lewis, 
"That  com'st  'twixt  me  and  mine?" 

And  his  cheek  is  flushed  with  anger, 
As  a  Bacchant's  flushed  with  wine. 

"What  boots  that  to  thy  purpose?" 

The  stranger  hot  replies ; 
"My  rifle  marked  it  living, 

And  mine,  when  dead,  the  prize." 

Then  with  sinewy  arms  they  grapple, 
Like  giants  fierce  in  brawls, 

Till  stretched  along  the  greensward 
The  humbled  hunter  falls. 

Upspringing  like  a  panther, 
He  cries,  in  wrath  and  pride, 

"Though  your  arms  may  be  the  stronger, 
Our  rifles  shall  decide,'1 


THE    ADVENTURES    OF    LEWIS    WEITZEL.  299 

"Stay,  stranger,"  quoth  good  Lewis. 

"The  chances  are  not  even; 
Who  challenges  my  rifle 

Should  be  at  peace  with  heaven. 

' '  Now  take  this  rod  of  alder, 

Set  it  by  yonder  tree 
A  hundred  yards  beyond  me, 

And  wait  you  there  and  see; 

"  For  he  who  dares  such  peril 

But  lightly  holds  his  breath — 
May  his  unshrived  soul  be  ready 

To  welcome  sudden  death." 

So  the  stranger  takes  the  alder, 

And  wondering  stands  to  view, 
While  Weitzel's  aim  grows  steady, 

And  he  cuts  the  rod  in  two. 

"  By  heaven !"  exclaims  the  stranger, 

"  One  only,  far  or  nigh, 
Hath  arms  like  the  lithe  young  ash-tree, 

Or  half  so  keen  an  eye ; 

"And  that  is  Lewis  Weitzel." 

Quoth  Lewis,  "  Here  he  stands;  " 
So  they  speak  in  gentler  manner, 

And  clasp  their  friendly  hands. 

Then  talk  the  mighty  hunters 

Till  the  summer  dew  descends, 
And  they  who  met  as  foemen 

Ride  out  of  the  greenwood  friends ; — 

Ride  out  of  the  leafy  greenwood 

As  rises  the  yellow  moon, 
And  the  purple  hills  lie  pleasantly 

In  the  softened  air  of  Tune. 
13 


ADVENTURES  OF  ISAAC  ANDERSON. 


'TXDWARD  the  close  of  the  Revolution  the  Indian 
1  allies  of  the  British  in  the  West  became  very 
aggressive  and  troublesome,  making  frequent  attacks 
on  the  frontier  settlements  and  destroying  much  val- 
uable property,  besides  killing  and  taking  into  captiv- 
ity a  great  many  of  the  unfortunate  whites.  These 
depredations  were  continued  until  the  end  of  the  war, 
and  for  ten  or  twelve  years  afterward,  to  the  no  small 
annoyance  and  terror  of  the  settlers,  whose  strength 
was  too  feeble  to  enable  them  to  resist  successfully. 

To  retaliate  on  the  Indians,  and  compel  them  to 
give  over  their  hostile  designs,  the  government  sent 
a  number  of  formidable  expeditions  against  them, 
which,  however,  though  under  the  command  of  brave 
and  experienced  generals,  nearly  all  had  a  most  disas- 
trous issue.  The  tribes  of  the  Ohio  Valley  were  unex- 
celled for  audacity,  courage  and  sagaciousness  among 
the  American  Indians;  and  the  successful  war  which 
they  waged  for  many  years  with  the  armies  of  the 
civilized  and  courageous  whites,  who,  by  a  trying  ex- 
perience, had  gained  a  thorough  knowledge  of  sav- 
age warfare,  and  were  therefore  able  to  meet  them 
on  theii  own  ground,  is  sufficient  proof  that  they  were 
fully  entitled  to  the  advantage  which  they  so  long 
maintained. 


<*oo) 


THE    ADVENTURES   OF   ISAAC    ANDERSON.  30! 

One  of  the  most  memorable  of  the  earlier  expedi- 
tions against  the  Indians  was  that  undertaken  by 
George  Rogers  Clarke,  in  the  year  lySr.  General 
Clarke,  at  the  time  of  which  we  speak,  resided  at 
the  Falls  of  the  Ohio,  where  he  was  in  command  of 
Fort  Nelson,  the  head-quarters  of  the  military  depart- 
ment of  the  West,  of  which  he  was  the  head.  The 
immediate  object  of  his  expedition  was  to  counteract 
the  effect  produced  by  the  crushing  defeat  of  the 
whites,  at  the  battle  of  Blue  Licks,  a  short  time  pre- 
vious. He  proposed  that  a  force  of  about  one  thou- 
sand men  should  be  raised  from  among  the  settlers 
in  Ohio  and  Kentucky,  and  rendezvous  at  Cincinnati, 
where  he  promised  to  join  it  with  a  part  of  an  Illi- 
nois regiment  together  with  such  other  troops  as  he 
might  be  able  to  muster.  This  proposition  was 
agreed  to,  and  General  Clarke  proceeded  to  perfect 
his  plans  for  the  campaign. 

Indefatigable  in  his  efforts,  he  determined  to  spare 
no  means  for  gaining  a  complete  victory  and  reducing 
the  Indians  at  once  to  subjection.  Among  other 
parts  of  the  country  laid  under  contribution  was 
Western  Pennsylvania,  which  he  visited  in  the  sum- 
mer of  1781.  Here  he  soon  raised  a  body  of  men, 
whom  he  proposed  to  lead  to  the  rendezvous  at 
Cincinnati. 

Among  those  who  were  particularly  active  in  ren- 
dering him  the  aid  which  he  solicited  was  Colonel 
Archibald  Laughery,  the  county  lieutenant  of  West- 
moreland County,  Pennsylvania.  In  a  short  time, 
chiefly  at  his  own  expense,  this  intrepid  officer 


302  THE   BACK-WOODSMEN. 

succeeded  in  mustering  about  one  hundred  volun 
teers,  and,  after  rendezvousing  at  Carnahan's  block- 
house, about  six  days'  march  from  Wheeling,  he  set 
out  with  his  men  to  join  General  Clarke,  who,  with 
the  main  force,  had  agreed  to  wait  at  the  last-named 
place. 

Next  in  command  to  Colonel  Laughery  was  Captain 
Robert  Orr,  an  Irishman  by  birth,  who,  with  his  supe- 
rior officer,  had  provided  the  means  necessary  for  the 
expedition.  Among  the  other  officers  was  the  brave 
Captain  Shannon,  a  man  who  stood  high  in  the 
esteem  of  Colonel  Laughery,  being  intrusted  by  him 
with  many  of  the  more  important  concerns  of  the 
expedition. 

In  the  company  of  Captain  Shannon  was  a  young 
officer,  Isaac  Anderson  by  name,  who,  having  fin- 
ished an  active  and  creditable  service  in  the  Conti- 
nental army,  had  come  to  Pennsylvania  in  search  of 
new  fields  of  military  enterprise.  As  it  is  our  inten- 
tion to  relate  for  the  edification  of  our  readers  a  part 
of  the  subsequent  career  of  this  young  man,  it  will 
not  be  out  of  place  to  give  a  brief  account  of  his 
previous  history. 

Isaac  Anderson  came  to  America  in  the  year  1774, 
at  the  age  of  sixteen.  He  was  born  of  respectable 
Irish  parents,  but,  as  both  his  father  and  mother  died 
while  he  was  quite  young,  he  grew  up  without  any  one 
to  provide  for  his  education  or  direct  him  in  his  future 
course.  He  possessed,  however,  even  at  this  youth- 
ful age,  very  marked  individuality  and  self-reliance, 
and,  taking  to  studying,  acquired  considerable  pro- 


THE   ADVENTURES    OF    ISAAC    ANDERSON.  303 

ficiency  in  mathematics,  and  a  mastery  of  the  art  of 
surveying. 

Arriving  in  America,  he,  choosing  to  rely  on  his 
own  exertions,  declined  an  invitation  extended  him 
by  some  of  his  relatives  in  Virginia  to  join  them.  He 
went  to  Pennsylvania,  where  he  remained  until  the 
outbreak  of  the  war,  when,  at  the  age  of  eighteen, 
he  shouldered  his  gun,  joined  a  volunteer  rifle  regi- 
ment, and  commenced  active  service  in  behalf  of  the 
country  of  his  adoption. 

Young  Anderson  soon  found  ample  opportunity  of 
exercising  his  adventurous  spirit.  He  participated 
in  some  of  the  most  sanguine  and  momentous  con- 
flicts of  the  war.  He  was  present  at  both  of  the 
bloody  battles  near  Saratoga,  and  was  one  of  ^  the 
proud  and  fortunate  spectators  of  the  surrender  of 
Burgoyne  to  the  American  general,  Gates ;  and 
throughout  the  war  the  regiment  to  which  he  be- 
longed was  kept  constantly  in  active  service,  bearing 
itself  with  high  honor  in  numerous  general  engage- 
ments, and  being  frequently  dispatched  to  perform 
important  duties  of  a  special  character. 

On  one  occasion,  when  out  on  a  scouting  expedition, 
the  regiment  was  attacked  by  a  British  force  very 
much  superior  in  numbers  and  equipment.  A  stout 
resistance  was  made,  and  the  skirmish  which  followed 
was  sharp  and  very  severe;  but  the  Americans  were 
badly  beaten  and  retreated  precipitously,  leaving  their 
dead  and  wounded  on  the  field.  Anderson  had 
fought  with  great  courage,  exposing  himself  fre- 
quently to  the  fire  of  the  enemy.  The  result  of  his 


304  THE   BACK-WOODSMEN. 

daring  was,  that  he  received  a  most  dangerous 
wound  from  a  musket-ball,  which  passed  in  at  one 
cheek  and  out  at  the  other,  crushing  a  number  of  his 
teeth;  and  so  severe  were  its  effects  that  he  fell  to 
the  ground,  bleeding,  unconscious,  and  apparently 
dead. 

It  was  the  middle  of  winter.  The  weather  was 
deathly  cold,  and  the  snow  lay  on  the  frozen  ground 
in  great  drifts.  Night  was  approaching,  and  a  party 
of  men  was  sent  out  by  the  British  officer  to  take 
the  wounded  from  the  field, — the  removal  of  the 
dead  being  left  until  the  next  morning.  Anderson 
still  lay  in  a  state  of  unconsciousness,  and,  as  he 
gave  no  sign  of  life,  was  left  on  the  ground  as  dead. 
Presently  the  night  came,  on,  and  with  it  the  British 
soldiers  left  their  camp  to  visit  the  battle-field  and 
secure  the  spoils  of  victory. 

Some  of  the  plunderers,  examining  the  body  of 
Anderson,  found  his  clothing  to  be  thick  and  in  good 
condition,  and  accordingly  stripped  it  off,  leaving 
him  in  the  bitter  night  with  scarcely  a  garment  to 
cover  him.  Reviving  after  awhile,  he  shouted  for 
assistance  as  loud  as  his  enfeebled  condition  would 
permit  him ;  but  his  cries  were  not  heard,  and,  faint 
from  the  loss  of  blood,  chilled  and  numb  in  every 
limb,  and  almost  perishing  from  the  torments  which 
he  suffered  on  account  of  his  wound,  he  lay  on  the 
earth  until  morning,  when  the  British  soldiers  came 
to  remove  and  bury  the  dead. 

Anderson  was  now  taken  into  camp,  carried  to 
Philadelphia,  and  placed  under  the  care  of  a  very 


THE    ADVENTURES   OF    ISAAC    ANDERSON.  305 

skillful  surgeon,  whom  he  found  to  be  an  Irishman 
who  had  come  from  his  own  county.  With  this  man 
Anderson  contracted  a  very  intimate  friendship,  and 
from  him  he  received  the  most  particular  and  con- 
siderate attention,  soon  being  restored  to  almost  per- 
fect health.  The  surgeon  proved  himself  to  be  in- 
deed a  true  friend ;  for,  when  the  British  evacuated 
Philadelphia,  at  three  o'clock  on  the  morning  of  the 
1 8th  of  June,  1778,  he  reported  Anderson  to  the 
superintending  surgeon  as  severely  ill ;  and  the  youth 
was  thus  permitted  to  remain  in  his  berth  in  the  hos- 
pital. After  the  British  had  left,  Anderson  sprang 
from  his  bed,  drew  on  his  clothes,  and  started  on  a 
run  for  the  American  camp,  happy  in  the  thought 
that  he  was  again  free  and  ready  for  new  adventures. 

During  the  principal  part  of  the  three  following 
years  Isaac  Anderson  was  with  his  regiment  in  vari- 
ous campaigns.  In  that  of  New  Jersey  in  particular 
he  bore  a  most  active  part,  fighting  in  a  great  many 
pitched  battles.  He  grew  to  be  a  very  expert  marks- 
man; and,  as  he  afterward  frequently  stated,  at  the 
famous  battle  of  Monmouth  Court  House  he  dis- 
charged his  rifle  with  aim  thirty-two  times. 

On  hearing,  shortly  after  his  arrival  in  Western 
Pennsylvania,  of  the  proposed  expedition  to  join 
General  Clarke  in  his  campaign  against  the  Indians, 
Anderson  immediately,  and  with  great  alacrity,  sig- 
nified his  willingness  to  become  one  of  the  number. 
He  was  also  influential  in  persuading  others  to  en- 
list ;  and,  partly  in  recognition  of  his  Revolutionary 
services,  and  partly  in  reward  of  the  material  aid 


306  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

which  he  had  rendered  in  obtaining  volunteers,  he 
was  raised  from  the  ranks  and  given  the  first-lieu- 
tenancy in  the  company  of  Captain  Shannon. 

Colonel  Laughery,  with  the  force  under  his  com- 
mand, started,  on  the  second  day  of  August,  1781, 
from  Carnahan's  block-house  and  pushed  forward  in 
the  direction  of  Wheeling,  hoping  to  arrive  in  time 
to  proceed  with  General  Clarke  and  the  army.  Their 
march  lay  through  a  wild  region,  which  was  crossed 
by  numerous  streams,  and  their  progress  was  natu- 
rally slow.  Wheeling  was  reached  on  the  8th  of 
August,  but  the  adventurers  found  that  they  were 
too  late,  since  General  Clarke,  tired  of  waiting,  had 
gone  ahead,  leaving  behind  one  of  his  officers  with 
a  few  men  and  a  boat  for  transporting  the  horses  of 
Laughery's  detachment,  but  without  ammunition  or 
provisions.  Instructions  were  given  for  Laughery 
and  his  men  to  proceed  immediately  and  join  the 
main  division  at  the  mouth  of  the  Kanawha  River. 
The  soldiers  accordingly  embarked  on  their  boats 
and  the  journey  was  resumed.  On  their  arrival  at 
the  appointed  place  they  found  that  General  Clarke 
had  once  more  been  forced  to  proceed  alone.  He 
had,  however,  left  a  letter  attached  to  a  pole,  and  in 
this  he  stated  that  he  could  not  afford  to  wait,  for  fear 
of  desertion  among  his  men,  and  directed  Laughery 
to  follow  him  to  the  Falls  of  the  Ohio. 

Again  the  venturous  band  continued  on  their  way. 
The  river  was  very  low ;  the  voyagers  knew  nothing 
of  its  channel,  and  the  boats  were  rude  and  unwieldy, 
having  been  made  for  temporary  use  merely.  Prog- 


THE    ADVENTURES    OF    ISAAC    ANDERSON.  307 

ress  was  therefore  very  tedious,  and  the  most  that 
could  be  hoped  was  that,  after  a  slow  passage,  ren- 
dered still  slower  by  unavoidable  delays,  the  Falls 
of  the  Ohio  might  be  safely  reached. 

The  prospect  of  consuming  many  days  of  valuable 
time  in  a  journey  which  they  had  hoped  to  make  ex- 
peditiously  was  discouraging  enough,  even  if  for  no 
other  reason  than  that  it  was  highly  important  to 
the  success  of  the  undertaking  that  General  Clarke 
should  be  joined  without  delay.  But  when  they  re- 
membered that  the  country  through  which  they  had 
to  pass  was  infested  by  hostile  tribes,  who  could 
scarcely  fail  to  receive  information  of  the  separation 
of  the  detachment  from  the  main  body,  and  of  its  com- 
parative weakness,  and  who  therefore  would  watch 
their  opportunities  of  attack,  the  voyagers  naturally 
felt  very  serious  apprehensions  concerning  their  safety. 

To  add  to  the  doubts  which  they  now  began  to 
entertain,  and  increase  their  concern  to  alarm  and 
terror,  their  store  of  provisions  and  forage  ran  short 
and  their  ammunition  became  nearly  exhausted.  The 
only  means  of  obtaining  fresh  supplies  was  by  draw- 
ing on  the  stores  carried  by  General  Clarke.  Colonel 
Laughery  accordingly  dispatched  Captain  Shannon 
and  seven  men  in  a  small  boat,  with  instructions  to 
travel  without  intermission  night  and  day,  overtake 
the  general,  secure  from  him  the  quantities  neces- 
sary, and  return  with  all  speed. 

Captain  Shannon  departed  on  his  mission  and  the 
rest  of  the  men  continued  on  their  way.  The  trials 
of  the  adventurers  now  began  in  earnest.  Each 


308  THE    BACK-WOOCSMEN. 

soldier  was  placed  on  short  allowance;  and,  close 
calculations  being  made,  it  was  found  that  the  pany 
could  barely  subsist  on  the  provisions  in  store  until 
Shannon's  return,  which  was  expected  to  be  in  the 
course  of  a  few  days.  Should  he  fail  to  appear  at 
the  end  of  that  time  the  only  recourse  was  to  pro- 
ceed day  and  night  until  General  Clarke  should  be 
overtaken,  or  else  to  depend  for  support  upon  the 
product  of  the  forest. 

The  day  after  Captain  Shannon's  departure  an  in- 
cident occurred  which  greatly  depressed  the  spirits 
of  the  soldiers,  raised  for  a  time  by  hopeful  antici- 
pation. Two  men  were  sent  out  to  hunt,  with  the 
understanding  that  they  were  to  rejoin  their  com- 
panions at  an  appointed  place  about  dusk.  A  short 
time  after  they  had  left  their  rifles  were  heard  at  a 
distance,  and  during  the  afternoon  the  reports  con- 
tinued, each  time  in  the  immediate  neighborhood. 
The  hour  for  return  arrived,  but  the  men  failed  to 
appear.  Guns  were  discharged  in  order  to  direct 
them  in  their  course  if  they  had  wandered  astray, 
and  diligent  search  was  made  in  various  directions, 
but  all  without  result,  and  the  party  at  length  went 
on  their  way,  concluding  that  their  companions  had 
been  killed  or  taken  prisoners  by  the  Indians.  This 
incident  had  a  most  disheartening  effect  on  the  weary 
and  discouraged  voyagers,  who  now  began  to  real- 
ize the  perils  of  their  undertaking,  and,  as  they  pro- 
ceeded down  the  river,  grew  every  moment  more 
fearful  that  they  were  being  drawn  closer  and  closer 
into  the  dreaded  Indian  ambush. 


THE    ADVENTURES    OF    ISAAC    ANDERSON.  309 

The  second  and  third  days  since  the  departure  of 
Captain  Shannon  and  his  men  passed,  and  still  the 
anxious  voyagers  looked  in  vain  for  the  returning 
canoe.  The  fourth  day  dawned,  and  with  it  hope 
well-nigh  gave  way  to  despair.  It  was  now  de- 
termined to  travel  as  rapidly  as  possible,  without 
stopping  even  for  rest,  and  the  canoes  pushed  for- 
ward bravely. 

Toward  the  middle  of  this  day  they  were  hailed 
by  two  men  on  shore,  who,  to  their  amazement, 
proved  to  belong  to  the  party  of  Captain  Shannon. 
They  were  very  ragged  and  presented  a  most  pitia- 
ble appearance ;  and  the  story  which  they  told  was 
in  no  way  calculated  to  allay  the  fears  of  their  now 
thoroughly  alarmed  friends. 

It  appears  that,  on  the  first  or  second  day  after 
they  had  left  their  companions,  Captain  Shannon 
and  his  men  put  ashore  on  a  low,  sandy  beach,  a 
short  distance  below  the  mouth  of  the  Scioto.  Here 
they  built  a  fire;  and,  while  the  captain  and  four 
men  remained  to  cook  their  dinner  and  guard  the 
boats,  the  other  three  took  their  rifles  and  went  out 
in  the  woods  to  hunt.  They  had  gone  a  distance 
of  about  half  a  mile  when  suddenly  to  their  great 
alarm  they  heard  a  volley  of  musket  shots  fired  in 
quick  succession, — the  noise  coming  from  the  direc- 
tion of  the  camp.  They  stopped  short,  listening  in 
breathless  suspense.  Instantly  the  firing  was  re- 
peated, followed  by  a  shrill  whoop,  the  unmistakable 
indication  of  an  Indian  attack.  Knowing  that  any 
attempt  to  rescue  their  companions  would  be  fruit- 


3IO  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

less,  since  the  Indians  evidently  were  much  superior 
to  them  in  numbers,  the  three  men,  giving  up  their 
pursuit  of  game,  started  on  a  hard  run  up  the  river, 
seeking  to  escape  and  rejoin  Colonel  Laughery. 

The  leader  of  the  fugitives  was  a  young  sergeant, 
a  very  gallant,  handsome,  and  athletic  fellow,  who 
had-  borne  himself  with  great  credit  under  many 
trying  circumstances.  This  man,  on  hearing  the  re- 
port of  the  rifles,  had  instinctively  drawn  his  knife, 
as  if  to  defend  himself,  and,  starting  to  run,  had 
again  thrust  it  in  his  belt,  but  so  carelessly  that  it 
hung  loosely,  and,  slipping  out,  fell  to  the  ground. 
Just  at  that  moment,  rushing  impetuously  forward, 
he  stepped  on  the  keen  edge,  and  the  knife  ran 
directly  through  his  foot,  almost  dividing  it  in  two. 
He  instantly  dropped  senseless,  and  a  few  moments 
after  expired  from  excessive  loss  of  blood. 

His  two  companions  stopped  only  long  enough 
to  close  his  eyes,  not  daring  to  remain  to  bury  the 
corpse,  fearing  that,  if  they  did  so,  their  enemies 
"would  be  upon  them.  That  night  they  slept  and 
watched  by  turns,  and  the  next  morning  resumed 
their  flight.  Although  nearly  famished  they  scarcely 
dared  to  discharge  their  rifles  at  game,  being  con- 
vinced, from  the  numbers  of  the  Indians  who  had 
assailed  their  companions,  as  well  as  from  other 
reasons,  that  they  were  in  constant  danger  of  attack 
by  lurking  savages.  Making  the  best  of  their  way 
through  the  forest  they  at  length  met,  as  already 
stated,  the  friends  from  whom  they  had  parted  four 
days  previous. 


THE    ADVENTURES    OF    ISAAC    ANDERSON  ^  I  I 

\J 

From  the  alarming  reports  given  by  the  fugitives, 
the  voyagers  now  became  fully  persuaded  that  the 
woods  swarmed  with  Indians  thirsting  for  their  blood. 
To  return  was,  however,  out  of  the  question,  and 
they  proceeded  with  as  great  rapidity  as  their 
wretched  crafts  would  permit,  exercising  every  vig- 
ilance, and  determining,  like  brave  men,  if  attacked, 
to  maintain  a  courageous  stand  and  sell  their  lives  as 
dearly  as  possible. 

A  short  time  after  taking  up  the  two  men  of  Shan- 
non's party,  their  attention  was  attracted  by  the 
crackling  of  bushes  at  some  distance,  and  the  sound 
of  voices.  A  halt  was  promptly  called,  and  the 
boats  were  rowed  to  the  shore.  The  men  disem- 
barked and  concealed  themselves  behind  the  trees, 
waiting  for  their  enemies.  Presently  a  party  of  men 
appeared,  but,  greatly  to  the  surprise  of  the  expect- 
ant soldiers,  these,  instead  of  being  Indians,  proved 
to  be  whites.  Colonel  Laughery  instantly  ordered 
his  band  to  take  the  offensive,  and  challenging  the 
deserters — for  such  he  rightly  judged  them  to  be— 
ordered  them  to  surrender.  The  order  was  obeyed, 
and  the  men,  nineteen  in  number,  confessed  that  they 
had  made  their  escape  from  General  Clarke,  and 
were  on  their  way  home.  Not  caring  to  encumber 
himself  with  these  cowardly  fellows,  and  being  too 
merciful  to  enforce  strict  military  discipline  under 
the  circumstances,  Laughery  permitted  them  to  con- 
tinue unmolested. 

Resuming  their  voyage  down  the  river,  the  men 
strained  every  effort  to  push  the  boats  forward  rap- 


312  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

idly,  and,  while  some  plied  the  oars,  the  others  kept 
their  rifles  in  their  hands,  ready  to  resist  any  assault. 
They  traveled  for  forty-eight  hours  almost  without 
stoppage,  but,  at  length,  seeing  no  Indians,  and  giv- 
ing up  for  awhile  their  fears,  they  determined  to  land, 
prepare  a  hearty  meal,  and  secure  sufficient  game  to 
furnish  provisions  for  the  remainder  of  the  journey. 

About  ten  o'clock,  on  the  morning  of  the  24th  of 
August,  they  put  to  shore  at  a  very  beautiful  spot 
near  the  mouth  of  a  small  creek  (now  called  Laugh- 
ery's  Creek),  in  the  south-eastern  part  of  Indiana. 
Congratulating  themselves  on  their  fancied  success  in 
eluding  the  Indians,  they  felt  comparatively  secure, 
and  accordingly  went  to  work  to  accomplish  the  de- 
sign on  which  they  were  bent,  thinking  of  very  little 
else.  While  some  built  fires  to  cook  the  provisions 
that  might  be  obtained,  others  dispersed  in  search  of 
game.  The  diligence  of  the  hunters  was  soon  amply 
rewarded.  An  immense  buffalo  was  killed  by  one  of 
the  party,  and  carried  into  the  camp,  where  it  was 
skinned  and  prepared  for  roasting,  while  the  men 
busied  themselves  in  gathering  wood  and  feeding  the 
flames  which  were  to  cook  them  the  bountiful  meal 
for  which  they  all  longed  so  eagerly. 

While  thus  occupied,  insensible  of  danger,  and 
wholly  unprepared  for  resisting  an  attack,  the  loud 
report  of  a  hundred  rifles  was  suddenly  heard,  and  at 
the  same  instant  a  murderous  volley  of  bullets  fell  in 
their  midst.  Before  they  had  time  to  recover  from 
their  surprise  and  assume  the  defensive,  the  Indians, 
to  the  number  of  four  or  five  score,  rushed  from  the 


THE    ADVENTURES    OF    ISAAC    ANDERSON.  313 

adjoining  woods,  and,  brandishing  their  tomahawks, 
advanced  with  unearthly  yells  to  dispatch  those  who 
had  survived  the  fire.  The  whites  defended  them- 
selves as  long  as  their  ammunition  lasted,  and  then 
fled  precipitately  to  their  boats  and  plied  their  oars 
vigorously,  striving  to  gain  the  Kentucky  shore.  But 
before  they  had  fairly  launched,  they  saw,  to  theif 
dismay,  a  number  of  canoes,  filled  with  Indian  war- 
.  riors,  put  out  from  the  opposite  bank.  They  now 
found  that  while  endeavoring  to  escape  danger  in 
the  rear,  they  were  inviting  a  worse  danger  ahead ;  for 
the  Indians  on  the  river  opened  a  merciless  fire,  and, 
powerless  to  longer  defend  themselves,  the  whites 
threw  down  their  arms  and  begged  for  quarter. 

Surrender  now  followed,  and  the  Indians  bound 
their  prisoners  (sixty  in  number),  and  marched  them 
about  eight  miles  up  the  river,  where  they  encamped 
with  them  through  the  night. 

The  results  of  the  battle, — if,  indeed,  it  can  be 
given  this  name, — were  most  disastrous.  The  attack 
was  completely  successful,  and  not  one.  man  escaped 
to  join  General  Clarke  or  return  home.  A  number 
were  wantonly  killed  after  being  taken  prisoners,  and 
among  these  was  the  heroic  leader  of  the  expedi- 
tion, Colonel  Laughery.  All  of  the  wounded  who 
were  not  able  to  walk  were  instantly  tomahawked 
and  scalped.  The  entire  number  of  men  taken  into 
captivity  was  forty-one,  of  whom  five  were  officers 
and  thirty-six  privates. 

The  ambush  had  been  laid  by  the  Indians  with 
the  most  consummate  skill,  They  had  been  ap- 


314  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

prised  of  the  approach  of  the  large  force  led  by  Gen- 
eral Clarke,  and  had  at  first  intended  to  attack  it,  but, 
being  informed  that  it  was  defended  by  a  brass  can- 
non, an  instrument  of  warfare  which  they  held  in 
superstitious  dread,  had  abandoned  their  design. 
After  the  passage  of  General  Clarke  and  his  men 
down  the  river,  they  had  lurked  in  the  neighborhood, 
watching  for  stragglers.  Their  vigilance  was  soon 
rewarded  by  the  capture  of  Captain  Shannon  and 
four  of  his  men.  On  searching  the  person  of  Shan- 
non they  found  the  letter  which  had  been  written  by 
Colonel  Laughery  to  General  Clarke,  requesting  sup- 
plies. This  letter  they  were  unable  to  read,  and 
neither  their  threats  nor  their  blows  could  persuade 
any  of  their  captives  to  translate  it.  Proceeding 
down  the  river  with  their  prisoners,  they  met  a  party 
of  deserters,  one  of  whom  translated  the  letter,  and, 
to  ingratiate  himself  with  the  Indians,  volunteered 
other  valuable  information;  so  that,  while  Colonel 
Laughery's  detachment  was  journeying  by  easy  stages, 
fondly  hoping  to  soon  receive  abundance  of  pro- 
visions and  ammunition,  their  enemies  were  assem- 
bling in  force  and  laying  the  plans  of  attack  and 
capture. 

The  Indians  chose  a  position  of  great  natural 
strength,  a  few  miles  below  Laughery's  Creek,  as 
the  point  of  attack.  Here  they  concealed  their 
canoes  in  the  bushes,  and  disposed  themselves  on 
both  sides  of  the  river,  awaiting  the  appearance  of 
the  whites.  They  calculated  on  capturing  the  whole 
party  without  a  struggle,  and  to  this  end  placed  their 


THE    ADVENTURES    OF    ISAAC    ANDERSON.  315 

prisoners  in  a  conspicuous  position  on  the  Indiana 
shore,  commanding  them  to  hail  the  boats  as  they 
passed,  and  advise  their  companions  to  surrender. 
But  being  informed  by  their  runners  that  Laughery 
and  his  men  had  put  ashore  at  the  mouth  of  the 
creek,  and  were  totally  unprepared  for  attack,  one 
party  of  the  Indians  marched  up  the  stream,  while 
the  other  launched  the  boats  and  awaited  the  signal 
of  attack,  when  they  rowed  swiftly  to  the  concerted 
place,  arriving  just  in  time  to  intercept  the  fugitives. 

Under  the  escort  of  their  Indian  captors,  the  prison- 
ers were  marched  rapidly  through  the  wilderness  in  the 
direction  of  Chillicothe,  at  that  time  one  of  the  most 
important  of  the  Indian  villages  in  the  Ohio  Valley. 
They  were  subjected  to  the  harshest  treatment — all 
being  tightly  pinioned,  and  obliged  to  walk  many 
miles  without  intermission  or  refreshment.  The  In- 
dians in  whose  hands  they  had  fallen  were  cruel  and 
barbarous  beyond  measure,  and,  whenever  a  prisoner 
showed  the  slightest  fatigue,  or  the  least  disposition 
to  murmur,  did  not  scruple  to  strike  their  tom- 
ahawks into  his  head,  scalp  him,  and  leave  him  dead 
in  the  path. 

Two  days  after  the  battle  on  the  Ohio,  the  party 
was  joined  by  a  reinforcement  of  one  hundred  white 
men  and  three  hundred  Indians,  and,  the  following 
day,  the  whole  body  of  Indian  and  white  warriors, 
with  the  exception  of  a  sufficient  force  left  to  guard 
the  prisoners,  turned  and  retraced  their  steps,  it  hav- 
ing been  determined  to  proceed  in  force  against  the 

white  settlements  of  Kentucky. 
19 


31 6  THE   BACK-WOODSMEN. 

Alter  their  departure  the  prisoners,  guarded  by  a 
detachment  of  eighteen  British  soldiers,  commanded 
by  a  young  sergeant,  lay  in  camp  for  eighteen  days. 
At  the  end  of  this  time  a  portion  of  the  troops  un- 
der the  command  of  Captain  Thompson  returned, 
having  had  a  successful  expedition  and  wrought 
much  damage.  The  march  was  then  resumed,  and 
four  days  after  the  party  arrived  at  Chillicothe, 
where  all  but  six  were  left  with  the  Indians,  and 
whence  the  remaining  six  were  taken  in  the  course 
of  a  few  days  by  way  of  the  Shawnee  villages  on 
the  Auglaize  River  to  Detroit. 

The  recognized  leader  of  the  weak  and  disheart- 
ened captive  band  was  the  young  man  whose  his» 
tory  we  have  given  in  brief,  and  whose  adventures 
we  are  now  about  to  relate.  During  the  journey 
down  the  Ohio,  Isaac  Anderson  had  shown  himself 
to  possess  remarkable  powers  of  endurance,  as  well 
as  great  judgment  and  sagacity.  He  was  among 
the  first  to  urge  upon  Colonel  Laughery  the  neces- 
sity of  traveling  by  night,  and  it  was  owing  greatly 
to  his  influence  that  discipline  had  been  preserved 
among  the  discouraged  and  murmuring  soldiers. 
When  the  hungry  voyagers  landed,  on  the  fatal 
morning  of  the  24th,  he  had  endeavored  in  vain  to 
impress  upon  his  companions  that  danger  was  not 
yet  over,  and  to  induce  Colonel  Laughery  to  station 
guards  around  the  encampment  and  keep  a  sufficient 
body  of  men  under  arms.  When  the  attack  was 
made  by  the  Indians,  he  was  one  of  the  few  who 
acted  with  deliberation ;  and,  during  the  brief  con- 


THE   ADVENTURES   OF   ISAAC  ANDERSON.  317 

test  which  followed,  he  conducted  himself  with  such 
coolness  as  not  only  to  be  singled  out  by  his  sur- 
viving companions  as  their  most  competent  leader, 
but  also  to  obtain  from  his  captors  recognition  as  a 
brave  and  daring  man,  \vho,  unless  well  secured  and 
carefully  watched,  might  give  them  much  trouble. 
In  the  march  through  the  wilderness  Anderson  had 
borne  the  fatigues  and  hardships  incident  to  the 
journey  with  great  fortitude,  and,  while  at  Chilli- 
cothe,  had  been  selected  by  the  Indians  as  one  who 
would  afford  them  great  entertainment  in  running 
the  gauntlet.  In  this  ordeal  Anderson  was  .badly 
beaten,  the  Indians  laying  on  their  blows  most  un- 
mercifully; and,  when  the  journey  was  again  re- 
sumed, he  was  so  stiff  and  sore  from  the  bruises 
which  he  had  received  that  he  was  hardly  able  to  walk. 

From  the  Shawnee  towns  the  party  marched 
through  a  swampy  and  very  unhealthful  country 
toward  Detroit.  On  October  4th,  1781,  they  ar- 
rived in  the  country  of  the  Mohawks,  and  here  they 
were  left  by  Captain  Thompson,  their  former  con- 
ductor, among  the  Indians,  who  agreed  to  take 
them  the  rest  of  the  way.  Seven  days  later  their 
destination  was  reached,  and  they  were  taken  into 
the  citadel,  given  good  quarters,  decently  clothed, 
and  allowed  the  liberty  of  going  where  they  pleased 
in  the  town  until  the  4th  of  November. 

From  Detroit  the  prisoners  were  taken  by  way 
of  the  lakes  to  Montreal,  where  they  arrived,  after 
a  very  stormy  voyage,  in  about  three  weeks'  time, 
and  were  delivered  to  General  Spike,  the  command- 


318  THE  BACK-WOODSMEN. 

ing-  officer,  who  ordered  them  to  be  placed  in  close 
confinement. 

The  captives  now  passed  through  an  experience, 
as  prisoners  of  war,  in  which  they  were  called  upon 
to  exercise  all  of  their  endurance,  and  compared  with 
which  their  former  trials,  though  severe,  we're  re- 
garded by  them  as  pleasures.  Confined  in  dark 
and  damp  rooms,  loaded  with  chains,  and  placed  on 
the  scantest  and  most  unwholesome  diet,  they  often 
longed  to  return  to  the  forest  and  be  subjected  again 
to  the  savage  treatment  of  the  brutal  Indians.  A 
brave  man  may  endure  blows,  or  suffer  the  extremes 
of  acute  pain  without  a  murmur;  but  when  placed  in 
solitary  confinement,  fettered  and  reduced  to  childish 
helplessness,  existence  becomes  irksome  and  death  is 
a  welcome  relief. 

For  six  months  the  unfortunate  prisoners  lay,  heav- 
ily chained,  in  the  British  dungeons.  During  this 
period  they  frequently  applied  to  their  jailers  for 
better  quarters  and  more  humane  treatment,  but 
each  time  their  requests  were  denied.  Seeing  that 
there  was  no  prospect  of  gaining  what  they  desired, 
and  regarding  death  as  preferable  to  their  unhappy 
situation,  they  at  length  determined  to  seek  an  op- 
portunity of  escape,  and  accordingly  set  about  to 
devise  the  ways  and  means  of  effecting  their  object. 

The  prison  in  which  they  were  confined  was  a  low, 
long  building,  situated  in  St.  Mark's  parish,  at  some 
distance  from  the  town,  and  surrounded  by  high 
pickets.  It  was  in  charge  of  a  vigilant  jailer,  who, 
during  the  day-time,  had  only  two  or  three  guards 


THE    ADVENTURES    OF    ISAAC    ANDERSON.  319 

to  assist  him.  At  night,  however,  it  was  more  care- 
fully watched,  several  soldiers  being  stationed  around 
it,  and  a  number  of  sentinels,  who  were  posted  along 
the  pickets,  having  it  in  constant  view. 

Learning  the  nature  of  the  surroundings,  Ander- 
son, who  took  upon  himself  the  conduct  of  the  en- 
terprise, was  not  long  in  laying  his  plans.  He  con- 
cluded that  an  attempt  to  escape  by  night  would  be 
attended  with  great  hazard ;  for,  although  he  and  his 
five  companions  might  succeed  in  knocking  down  the 
guards  and  sentinels,  an  outcry  would  instantly  be 
raised,  the  town  would  be  alarmed,  and  they  would 
speedily  be  retaken.  He  concluded,  therefore,  that 
the  only  feasible  plan  was  to  make  the  effort  in  the 
day-time,  when  they  would  be  unperceived  from  with- 
out, since  no  one  would  be  on  the  watch,  and  since, 
on  account  of  the  isolation  of  the  spot,  they  would 
stand  in  no  danger  of  being  seen  from  the  garrison. 

His  next  care  was  to  throw  the  guards  off  their 
watch,  and  impress  them  with  the  idea  that  their 
prisoners  had  become  reconciled  to  the  situation, 
and  entertained  no  thought  of  successful  escape. 
In  this  endeavor  he  succeeded  beyond  expectation. 
The  guards,  seeing  that  the  men  were  submissive 
and  no  longer  complained  of  their  hardships,  gradu- 
ally allowed  them  greater  freedom,  and  at  length 
associated  with  them  on  familiar  terms.  Growing 
less  and  less  watchful,  they  finally  permitted  them 
the  freedom  of  the  premises ;  and  since,  like  all  sol- 
diers, they  were  lovers  of  the  bottle,  made  them  their 
companions  in  their  convivial  moods. 


32O  THE  BACK-WOODSMEN, 

One  morning  toward  the  close  of  May,  1782, 
Anderson,  seeing  his  jailers  to  be  more  friendly 
and  less  vigilant  than  usual,  proposed  a  drinking 
bout.  This  was  agreed  to;  the  bottle  was  passed 
round,  and  before  long  the  soldiers  were  all  stretched 
out  senseless  on  the  floor,  leaving  their  prisoners, 
who  had  imbibed  less  freely,  to  come  and  go  at 
freedom. 

While  one  of  the  party  made  a  careful  reconnois- 
sance,  the  others  quickly  visited  the  jailer's  room  in 
search  of  weapons  and  provisions.  Unfortunately, 
however,  they  obtained  only  a  few  knives  and  toma- 
hawks and  a  scant  stock  of  food ;  but,  though  they 
were  disappointed,  they  secured  something  which 
was  no  less  valuable  than  what  they  sought, — a 
small  compass. 

Finding  the  coast  clear,  the  adventurers  now  scaled 
the  pickets,  and  started  down  the  island  on  which  the 
city  of  Montreal  stands.  It  was  about  two  o'clock  in 
the  afternoon,  and,  as  they  were  not  yet  out  of  dan- 
ger, they  were  obliged  to  proceed  with  great  circum- 
spection, knowing  that,  if  they  fled  precipitately,  any 
one  who  chanced  to  see  them  would  guess  their  pur- 
pose and  give  the  alarm. 

Soon  after  they  had  left  the  prison,  they  met  a 
party  of  three  British  soldiers  on  horseback,  just 
returning  from  a  hunting  expedition.  Anderson 
instructed  his  men  to  preserve  silence,  unless  spoken 
to,  and  then,  accosting  the  soldiers  civilly,  asked 
how  far  he  had  to  go  until  he  should  reach  Montreal. 
This  inquiry  gave  the  British  much  merriment,  and 


THE   ADVENTURES   OF  ISAAC   ANDERSON,          321 

one  of  them,  as  soon  as  he  could  command  his 
gravity,  very  seriously  told  his  interlocutor  that,  after 
traveling  ten  miles  further  in  the  direction  in  which 
he  was  going,  he  would  reach  a  small  trading  station, 
and  that  he  must  there  inquire  for  a  guide,  who 
would  take  him  through  the  wilderness  the  rest  of 
the  way,  and  bring  him  to  his  destination,  if  the 
weather  proved  favorable,  in  about  two  days'  time. 
Anderson  received  this  information  with  a  very  puz- 
zled expression  of  countenance,  remarking  that  he 
had  fancied  himself  to  be  in  the  immediate  vicinity 
of  the  city,  and  had  hoped  to  reach  it  before  dusk. 
At  this  the  soldiers  laughed  heartily,  and  went  on 
their  way,  turning  around  frequently  to  look  back  at 
the  men,  whom  they  saw  standing  still,  and  appar- 
ently debating  with  great  earnestness  whether  they 
should  proceed  or  return. 

When  the  soldiers  were  out  of  sight,  the  fugitives 
went  on  their  way,  congratulating  themselves  on  the 
successful  issue  of  the  adventure.  At  a  point  a  few 
miles  further  on,  they  crossed  the  St.  Lawrence,  and 
then  struck  out  through  the  forest,  steering,  by  the 
aid  of  their  compass,  in  the  direction  of  the  Sorel 
River,  which  they  reached  and  crossed  toward 
evening. 

About  midnight  they  came  to  a  Frenchman's  dwell- 
ing, and  here  Anderson  ordered  a  halt.  Taking  with 
him  one  of  his  companions,  he  broke  open  the  barn 
and  loosed  two  of  the  horses.  He  then  killed  two 
lambs,  and,  throwing  them  over  the  backs  of  the 
horses,  rejoined  his  companions.  The  party  rode 


322  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

hard  all  night,  and,  on  the  following  morning,  halted, 
built  a  fire,  and  skinned  and  barbecued  the  lambs. 
After  satisfying  their  appetites,  they  rested  for 
awhile,  and  then  went  ahead  with  their  horses,  but 
had  gone  only  about  five  miles,  when  they  came  to  a 
very  swampy  country,  where,  finding  that  they  could 
make  no  progress,  they  were  obliged  to  turn  their 
horses  loose  and  proceed  on  foot. 

This  day  they  marched  without  stopping.  Travel- 
ing in  an  easterly  direction,  they  reached,  about  the 
middle  of  the  afternoon,  the  river  Missisque,  which 
they  crossed  on  a  rude  raft,  and  then  went  ahead 
two  miles,  when  they  halted  and  encamped  for  the 
night. 

They  had  now  placed  themselves  out  of  the  reach 
of  pursuit,  and  felt  comparatively  secure;  but  they 
knew  that,  although  there  was  little  danger  of  being 
overtaken,  they  still  had  many  risks  to  encounter, 
since  the  country  through  which  they  were  to  pass 
was  held  by  the  British,  and  that,  therefore,  they 
must  avoid  all  towns  and  settlements,  and,  instead  of 
following  the  courses  of  the  large  streams,  preserve 
their  route  through  the  wilderness. 

In  spite  of  their  precautions,  however,  they  came, 
on  one  occasion,  very  near  being  recaptured.  They 
had  risen  before  daybreak,  and  were  marching,  as 
they  thought,  through  a  desolate,  unsettled  country, 
when  they  suddenly  heard,  directly  ahead  of  them, 
the  sound  of  a  drum,  beating  the  reveille.  Peering 
through  the  trees,  they  saw  an  English  block- house 
at  the  distance  of  a  few  rods.  A  band  of  soldiers 


THE    ADVENTURES    OF    ISAAC    ANDERSON.  323 

was  drawn  up  outside,  and,  had  the  men  gone  a  few 
steps  further,  they  would  have  been  instantly  discov- 
ered, pursued,  taken,  and  again  placed  in  confine- 
ment. 

The  journey  through  the  wilderness  was  attended 
with  trials  and  privations  of  a  singularly  distressing 
and  disheartening  character.  Although  the  spring  of 
the  year  was  nearing  a  close,  the  season  was  very 
backward.  The  nights  were  extremely  cold,  and  on 
some  of  the  mountains  the  snow  lay  quite  deep.  Nu- 
merous creeks  and  rivers,  swollen  by  heavy  rains, 
obstructed  their  progress,  and  nearly  all  of  these 
were  so  deep  that  they  could  not  be  forded,  and  rafts 
had  to  be  built  to  give  the  means  of  passage. 

The  terrible  distresses  for  want  of  food  which  the 
men  had  suffered  while  journeying  down  the  Ohio, 
were  now  again  to  be  experienced.  On  the  3ist  of 
May,  1782,  five  days  after  their  escape,  the  scanty 
stock  of  provisions  which  they  had  taken  with  them 
became  exhausted.  They  had  no  guns  with  which  to 
shoot  game,  and,  as  they  were  in  a  hostile  country, 
they  did  not  dare  to  apply  for  relief  in  any  of  the 
settlements,  lest  they  shouid  be  immediately  appre- 
hended and  sent  into  captivity.  Consequently,  it 
was  not  long  before  they  reached  the  verge  of  starva- 
tion. Famished  and  almost  perishing,  they  were 
obliged  to  kill  and  eat  their  dog;  and,  so  great  were 
their  necessities,  that,  after  they  had  consumed  the 
animal,  they  had  nothing  on  which  to  subsist  but 
roots  and  reptiles. 

While   in   this  terrible  condition,  another  misfort- 


324  THE   BACK-WOODSMEN. 

une,  equally  calamitous  in  its  nature,  befell  them. 
One  evening-,  after  journeying  all  day  through  a  com- 
paratively open  country,  guiding  their  course  by  the 
sun,  they  found,  on  searching  their  baggage,  that 
they  had  lost  their  compass.  Far  from  friends  and 
country,  without  supplies  of  any  kind,  and  weary, 
footsore,  and  dejected,  the  terrible  thought  now 
dawned  upon  them  that  their  doom  had  at  last  been 
pronounced,  and  that  nothing  was  left  but  to  lie  down 
in  the  forest  and  wait  for  death.  This,  indeed,  must 
have  been  their  lot,  had  not  the  weather  proved  pro- 
pitious. On  the  following  day  the  sun  rose  bright, 
and  by  its  assistance  they  were  enabled  to  continue 
on  their  way,  although  still  suffering,  from  the  want 
of  food,  the  extremes  of  bodily  agony. 

For  the  next  few  days  the  journey  was  slow  and 
painful.  The  rivers  were  numerous,  and  their  cur- 
rents very  strong,  and  rafts  had  to  be  made  at  each 
stream  to  carry  them  across.  The  weather  was, 
for  awhile,  very  cloudy,  and  the  travelers  were 
obliged  to  follow  the  course  of  the  rivers,  which  they 
could  now  do  with  safety,  for  they  knew  that  they 
had  gained,  by  this  time,  the  basin  of  the  Con- 
necticut. 

On  the  night  of  the  fifth  of  June,  the  travel- 
ers had  reached  the  extreme  point  of  fatigue,  hun' 
ger,  and  distress.  Their  powers  of  endurance  had 
been  strained  to  the  utmost,  and  they  were  now  con- 
vinced that  nothing  remained  for  them  but  to  give 
up  in  despair.  Their  moccasins  had  been  entirely 
worn  out,  and,  to  proceed  over  the  rough,  rocky 


THE    ADVENTURES    OF    ISAAC    ANDERSON.  325 

ground  without  some  covering  for  their  feet,  was  out 
of  the  question.  They  had  eaten  nothing  during  the 
day,  and  how  to  procure  an  evening  meal  was  a 
problem  to  which  there  seemed  to  be  no  solution. 

While  they  were  in  this  dilemma,  one  of  the  men 
who  had  been  out  in  search  of  food,  returned,  bring- 
ing with  him  some  toads  which  he  had  caught. 
These  were  roasted  and  divided  among  the  men, 
who  all  ate  voraciously.  Soon  after,  every  member 
of  the  .party  was  taken  deathly  sick.  The  vile  stuff 
which  they  had  consumed  acted  on  their  shattered 
constitutions  as  a  powerful  poison,  and,  writhing  with 
intense  pain,  they  lay  through  the  night,  expecting 
every  moment  that  the  next  would  be  their  last. 

The  effects  of  the  unwholesome  food  were  not, 
however,  sufficiently  deleterious  to  endanger  their 
lives.  On  the  following  morning  they  arose,  and, 
though  greatly  weakened,  made  a  shift  to  continue 
their  journey.  They  had  contrived,  the  evening  be- 
fore, to  replace  their  worn-out  moccasins  by  rough 
temporary  ones,  made  from  their  leggins,  and,  resolv- 
ing to  proceed  as  long  as  there  was  life  in  their 
bodies,  they  again  pushed  forward. 

Toward  the  end  of  this  day,  to  their  great  joy, 
they  reached  an  American  settlement,  where  'they 
were  given  refreshments  by  the  inhabitants,  and 
halted  for  a  few  hours.  Resuming  their  journey 
the  same  night,  they  came  to  the  Connecticut 
River;  and,  anxious  to  be  again  within  bounds  of 
civilization,  crossed  it  and  after  a  few  hours'  rest 
continued  on  their  way. 


326  THE   BACK-WOODSMEN. 

Arrived  on  American  soil,  among  countrymen  and 
friends,  the  travelers  now  felt  that  their  hardships 
were  over.  They  still,  however,  had  many  long 
and  weary  miles  to  go  and  much  fatigue  to  endure ; 
but  having  borne,  for  the  sake  of  freedom,  all  the 
privations  and  terrors  of  the  wilderness,  they  were 
not  disposed  to  murmur  at  any  slight  trials  which 
they  might  be  obliged  to  undergo  before  obtain- 
ing the  full  fruition  of  their  hopes.  They  marched 
down  the  Connecticut  to  a  point  several  miles  from 
its  mouth,  where  they  crossed  it  and  proceeded 
direct  to  Philadelphia,  and  thence  to  their  homes 
in  Western  Pennsylvania,  arriving  at  their  desti- 
nation on  the  1 6th  day  of  July,  1782,  nearly  two 
months  after  their  escape  from  Montreal. 

The  rest  of  the  men  who  were  taken  by  the  In- 
dians at  Laughery's  defeat  were  held  in  captivity 
until  the  next  year,  when  the  conclusion  of  the 
treaty  of  peace  between  Great  Britain  and  the 
United  States  set  them  free.  Their  experience, 
though  very  trying,  was  less  eventful  than  that  of 
Anderson  and  his  companions,  and  has  therefore 
been  omitted  from  the  present  narrative. 

Isaac  Anderson  afterward  removed  to  Butler 
County,  Ohio,  where  he  purchased  a  tract  of  land, 
and  resided  until  his  death  in  1839.  He  was  a  man 
of  considerable  prominence.  An  account  of  his 
subsequent  life  is  given  in  Mr.  James  McBride's 
"Pioneer  Biography,"  to  which  we  refer  those  of 
our  readers  who  may  desire  to  know  more  pf  him. 


INCIDENTS  IN  THE  LIFE  OF  BOONE. 


THE  object  of  the  present  work  is  not  so  much 
to  give  full  and  exhaustive  accounts  of  particular 
individuals,  as  to  present,  in  an  attractive  form,  some 
of  the  most  interesting  and  characteristic  incidents 
in  the  lives  of  famous  adventurers,  illustrative  of 
the  struggles,  privations,  virtues,  and  heroism  of 
the  early  Western  settlers.  The  work  possesses, 
therefore,  less  of  the  biographical  than  of  the  nar- 
rative character;  and  the  sketches  which  it  contains, 
although  they  have  been  made  as  full  as  circum- 
stances would  permit,  advance  very  few  pretensions 
to  biographical  completeness. 

The  lives  of  Daniel  Boone  and  Simon  Kenton, 
the  two  most  famous  of  the  Western  pioneers,  are 
so  replete  with  incident  that,  with  a  due  regard  to 
the  requirements  of  this  work,  it  is  impossible  tc 
relate  them  at  length.  In  our  accounts  of  these 
adventurers  we  have,  therefore,  instead  of  giving 
connected  narratives,  introduced  only  a  few  of  the 
more  interesting  incidents  in  their  careers.  It  is 
hoped  that  our  readers  will  find  the  method  which 
we  have  adopted  equally  pleasing,  if  not  equally  in- 
structive, with  that  which  has  usually  been  employed. 

Daniel  Boone  was  born  in  Western  Pennsylvania, 

(?27) 


328  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

August  22,  1734,  of  respectable  parents.  While 
Daniel  was  still  a  boy  his  father  removed  to  the 
banks  of  the  Yadkin,  in  North  Carolina.  From 
early  youth  he  led  a  roving  and  adventurous  life ; 
and,  growing  up  in  the  wilderness,  became  so 
accustomed  to  privation,  and  so  inured  to  hard- 
ships and  trials  of  all  kinds,  that  his  only  desire 
was  to  avoid  the  paths  of  quiet  and  ease,  follow 
the  haunts  of  the  hunter,  and  live  and  die  in  his 
native  forests. 

In  1767,  Findley,  the  celebrated  adventurer,  re- 
turned from  a  long  and  dangerous  journey  to  the 
West  with  glowing  reports  of  the  exceeding  beauty, 
fertility,  and  grandeur  of  the  country  which  he  had 
visited.  He  spoke  in  terms  of  unbounded  enthu- 
siasm of  its  immense  resources ;  and  in  language 
calculated  to  fill  the  soul  of  the  hunter  with  de- 
light, described  the  wonders  of  the  expanseless  do- 
main, which  he  said  was  filled  with  innumerable 
herds  of  buffalo  and  deer,  and  occupied  by  the. 
greatest  abundance  of  small  game  in  the  most  in- 
conceivable variety. 

Findley's  account  of  this  beautiful  and  boundless 
hunting-ground  acted  like  a  charm  on  the  mind  of 
so  bold  an  adventurer  and  so  true  a  woodsman  as 
Daniel  Boone,  and  he  immediately  determined  to 
visit  it.  Accordingly,  early  in  the  spring  of  1769,  he 
set  out,  in  company  with  Findley  and  four  others, 
to  explore  and  take  possession  of  the  enchanted 
region. 

Although  some  of  Boone's  biographers  have  de- 


INCIDENTS   IN   THE    LIFE   OF    BOONE.  329 

scribed  him,  at  the  time  of  his  departure  on  this 
memorable  expedition,  as  a  man  of  but  twenty  or 
twenty-five  years,  burning  with  all  the  fire  and 
energy  of  uncontrolled  youth,  and  thoughtlessly 
rushing  forward,  anxious  to  meet  and  experience 
every  danger  which  the  life  of  the  frontiersman 
can  offer,  he  was  in  reality  approaching  the  me- 
ridian of  life;  and,  far  from  being  rash  or  incon- 
siderate, he  was  as  sagacious  as  he  was  bold,  and 
as  prudent  as  he  was  fearless.  Unlike  the  impetu- 
ous Kenton  and  Brady,'  he  added  temperateness 
and  perfect  self-control  to  physical  daring;  and  the 
secret  of  his  great  success  in  his  subsequent  life 
lay  as  much  in  his  profound  sagacity  and  admirable 
coolness  as  in  his  superior  powers  of  body  and  un- 
conquerable intrepidity. 

Boone's  person  has  been  often  described;  but,  if 
the  accounts  of  him  which  have  come  down  to  us 
are  accurate,  no  description  can  do  him  justice. 
His  form  was  tall  and  commanding;  his  frame  was 
gigantic,  sinewy,  and  perfectly  proportioned ;  his  feat- 
ures, though  rough-hewn  and  in  no  respect  hand- 
some, were  very  attractive  and  indicative  of  the 
greatest  independence  and  resolution.  His  eye 
was  particularly  large,  fine,  and  piercing;  and  in 
every  appearance  the  man  was  the  perfect  type 
of  the  bold  Western  pioneer,  hunter,  and  advent- 
urer. 

The  expedition  started  from  the  settlement  in 
which  Boone  lived,  on  the  banks  of  the  Yadkin, 
and  proceeding  due  west,  under  the  direction  of 


330  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

Findley,  cbmmenced  the  ascent  of  the  mountains. 
Their  journey  was  toilsome  in  the  extreme;  and, 
before  half  of  the  distance  had  been  accomplished, 
some  of  the  men  began  to  murmur  and  besought 
their  leader  to  return.  But  as  they  went  on  the 
bravery  and  indifference  to  danger  manifested  by 
Findley  and  Boone  soon  inspired  the  rest  of  the 
party  with  a  like  fortitude ;  and,  the  march  growing 
less  trying  as  they  advanced,  all  pushed  forward 
resolutely,  determined  to  succeed  in  their  enter- 
prise, and  not  to  complain  if  danger  rather  than 
fortune,  and  hardship  rather  than  comfort,  fell  to 
their  lot. 

While  crossing  the  mountains  an  incident  oc- 
curred which  gave  Boone  an  opportunity  of  show- 
ing the  material  of  which  he  was  made.  One  night 
he  and  a  companion  named  Holden  were  on  watch, 
guarding  the  camp  while  the  rest  of  the  party  slept. 
It  was  about  midnight,  and  the  two  sentinels  were 
sitting,  with  their  rifles  between  their  knees,  listening 
to  the  deep  breathing  of  the  sleepers.  Suddenly  a 
terrible  shriek,  resembling  the  shrill  cry  of  a  fright- 
ened woman  or  child,  broke  the  stillness  of  the  night. 
Both  men  instantly  sprang  erect.  Holden,  trembling 
and  terrified,  convulsively  grasped  the  arm  of  his  com- 
rade and  exclaimed,  "What  is  that?"  "Silence!" 
replied  Boone,  who  was  more  familiar  with  the  woods 
than  his  friend;  "do  not  wake  the  rest.  Take  your 
gun  and  come  with  me." 

Holden,  not  daring  to  disobey,  did  as  he  waL 
ordered.  The  two  stole  silently  from  the  camp,  and, 


INCIDENTS    IN    THE    LIFE    OF    BOONE.  331 

after  proceeding  for  some  distance,  Bonne  halted, 
whispering  to  his  companion  that  they  would  wait  for 
a  repetition  of  the  cry.  In  a  few  minutes  the  scream 
was  again  heard,  louder  and  more  fearful  than  before, 
Boone  was  now  satisfied,  and  again  telling  Holden 
to  follow,  groped  his  way  cautiously  through  the 
bushes,  in  the  direction  from  which  the  sound  came. 
Occasionally  he  stopped  to  look  round,  holding  his 
rifle  as  he  did  so,  ready  to  shoot  at  any  moment. 
At  length  he  touched  his  companion,  and,  by  a  pre- 
concerted agreement,  the  two  sank  quietly  to  the 
ground.  Holden  now  saw  directly  in  fr£nt  of  him 
two  large  balls  of  light  that  gleamed  and  sparkled 
with  an  intense  brightness,  like  coals  of  fire.  He 
whispered  to  his  companion,  asking  him  if  it  was  not 
a  panther ;  but  Boone  was  at  that  moment  absorbed 
in  his  favorite  occupation,  and  did  not  answer.  He 
took  a  deliberate  aim,  and,  when  certain  of  success, 
fired.  A  hideous  yell  of  pain  instantly  resounded 
through  the  wood.  Then  came  a  crashing  noise,  as 
of  some  huge  animal  leaping  through  the  underbrush, 
and  Boone,  satisfied  with  the  success  of  his  shot,  told 
his  companion  that  it  was  a  panther,  and  that  it 
probably  would  be  found  the  next  morning.  They 
then  returned  to  the  camp.  Its  remains  were  not 
found,  as  Boone  had  expected,  and  the  party  jour- 
neyed on.  Two  days  after,  while  marching  through 
a  thick  growth  of  bushes,  an  animal  stretched  on  the 
ground  attracted  attention.  It  was  examined  and 
found  to  be  a  dead  panther;  and,  comparing  the  size 

of  the  ball  which  had  killed  it  with  that  of  the  bullets 
20 


332  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

in   Boone's    pouch,  it  was   evident  that  it   was    the 
a*nimal  which  he  had  shot  at. 

The  intervening  ridges  of  mountains  were  at 
length  passed,  and  the  travelers  stood  on  their 
farthest  western  spur.  A  scene  incomparably  grand 
and  beautiful  opened  before  them.  It  seemed  as  if 
they  were  gazing  into  paradise  itself,  for  they  could 
scarcely  believe  that  any  earthly  prospect  could  be 
so  magnificent.  The  vast  plain  was  covered  with 
illimitable  stretches  of  forests,  and  watered,  as  the 
travelers  thought,  by  an  almost  innumerable  number 
of  winding  river  courses.  "  This  is  Kentucky,"  said 
Findley  to  his  companions.  "  It  is  a  glorious  coun- 
try!" exclaimed  Boone,  with  enthusiasm,  and,  after 
gazing  for  a  few  moments  in  'wonder  and  delight,  he 
threw  his  rifle  over  his  shoulder,  and  descended,  with 
his  companions,  to  take  possession  of  this  hunter's 
Elysium. 

The  first  few  days  after  their  entrance  into  the 
beautiful  country  of  which  they  now  regarded  them- 
selves as  the  rightful  owners,  they  spent  in  hunting 
and  killing  buffalo,  immense  herds  of  which  ranged 
the  forests  and  trampled  over  the  broad  and  fertile 
plains.  None  of  the  party,  except  Findley,  had  be- 
fore enjoyed  this  noble  and  exhilarating  sport. 
Boone  soon  proved  himself  to  be  superior  to  all  of 
his  companions,  both  as  a  marksman  and  as  a  saga- 
cious hunter,  and  before  many  days  had  passed 
dozens  of  these  magnificent  animals  fell  before  his 
unerring  aim.  He  was  so  carried  away  with  his  new 
life  that  he  determined  to  pass  the  remainder  of  his 


INCIDENTS   IN   THE   LIFE   OF   BOONE.  333 

days  in  this  favored  region.  "Ay,"  he  said  in  reply 
to  one  of  his  companions  who  commented  on  the 
beauty  and  richness  of  the  country;  "Ay,  and  who 
would  remain  on  the  sterile  pine  hills  of  North  Car- 
olina, to  hear  the  screaming  of  the  jay,  and  now  and 
then  bring  down  a  deer  too  lean  to  be  eaten?  This 
is  the  land  of  hunters,  where  man  and  beast  grow  to 
their  full  size." 

For  six  months  the  adventurers  passed  the  time 
most  pleasantly,  meeting  no  Indians,  and  having  no 
disagreeable  experience.  Nearly  all  of  the  hunters 
•now  believed  that  they  were  the  sole  occupants  of  the 
country,  and  that  all  that  remained  was  to  return  for 
their  families  and  settle  it.  But  Boone,  who  was  less 
credulous,  told  his  companions  that,  from  certain  in- 
dications, he  was  convinced  that  they  should,  sooner 
or  later,  meet  all  the  Indians  that  they  could  care  to 
encounter,  and  that,  as  for  being  left  to  take  sole  and 
peaceable  possession  of  the  country,  they  would  do 
well  if  they  held  their  own.  We  shall  see  that  his 
belief  was  not  ill-founded. 

On  the  22nd  day  of  December,  Boone,  with  a  com- 
panion named  John  Stewart,  determining  to  pen- 
etrate the  heart  of  the  country,  and  learn  something 
of  its  character  throughout  its  western  extent,  left 
the  camp  and  boldly  struck  out  through  the  wilder- 
ness. They  promised  their  companions  that,  after 
they  had  secured  the  objects  of  their  enterprise,  they 
would  return  and  give  a  report  of  what  they  had  seen. 

Traveling  leisurely,  they  passed  through  a  region 
of  the  most  surpassing  beauty  and  fertility.  Finally, 


334  TIifi   BACK-WOODSMEN. 

one  day,  at  nightfall,  they  caije  in  view  of  the  Ken- 
tucky River,  and,  pausing  on  the  brink  of  this 
stream,  they  gazed  for  awhile  in  the  most  undisguised 
astonishment  and  admiration  at  the  magnificent 
scenery  which  presented  itself  to  their  view.  A 
lofty  eminence  was  before  them,  and,  as  they  sup- 
posed that  it  would  afford  them  a  far  view  of  the 
meanderings  of  the  river,  they  ascended  it.  Their 
hope  was  realized.  A  broad  stretch  of  country  was 
spread  out  before  them,  and,  in  the  light  of  the  set- 
ting sun,  it  presented  an  aspect  so  noble  and  delight- 
ful that  they  involuntarily  recalled  their  first  view  of 
Kentucky,  and  declared  that  even  that  grand  pros- 
pect could  hold  no  comparison  with  the  one  which 
now  rejoiced  their  sight. 

On  the  following  morning  they  commenced  the 
descent  of  the  hill,  intending  to  resume  their  jour- 
ney. Little  thinking  of  danger,  they  passed  leisurely 
along,  with  their  rifles  carelessly  resting  on  their 
arms.  While  passing  a  thick  cane-brake,  Boone 
heard  a  slight  rustling  noise,  and  was  instantly  on 
the  alert,  thinking  that  he  should  soon  have  a  shot 
at  a  deer.  But,  to  his  dismay,  he  saw  a  number  of 
Indians  crouched  on  the  ground,  with  their  guns 
raised  ready  to  shoot  in  case  he  made  the  least 
movement.  Instantly  afterward  the  dreaded  war-cry 
burst  on  his  ears,  and  a  numerous  party  of  savages 
rushed  forward.  Both  he  and  Stewart  were  im- 
mediately seized,  disarmed,  and  bound,  and,  guarded 
by  several  stalwart  savages,  marched  to  an  Indian 
encampment  a  few  miles  distant. 


INCIDENTS    IN    THE    LIFE    OF    BOONE.  335 

Boone's  discretion  and  sagacity  now  stood  him  in 
good  stead.  Neither  he  nor  his  companion  under- 
stood a  word  of  the  Indian  tongue,  but  he  readily 
comprehended  that  the  only  way  to  avoid  death  was 
to  appear  reconciled  to  his  lot,  and  go  forward  with 
speed  and  courage.  Although  Stewart  was  not  so 
well-versed  in  strategy  as  his  companion,  he  was  a 
brave  man,  and  was  naturally  hopeful  in  disposition ; 
and  he,  also,  advanced  with  seeming  alacrity. 

When  the  Indians  saw  that  their  captives  were 
cheerful  and  content,  and  were  not  disposed  to  mur- 
mur at  any  of  their  exactions,  they  gradually  relaxed 
their  severity,  and  were  less  strict  in  guard.  On  the 
seventh  night  of  the  captivity  they  made  a  great  fire, 
and,  throwing  off  all  restraint,  permitted  Boone  and 
Stewart  to  associate  with  them  on  equal  terms,  feast- 
ing them  liberally,  and,  when  the  time  for  rest  arrived, 
allowing  them  to  lie  down  where  they  chose  without 
a  guard.  Boone,  giving  his  companion  the  cue, 
affected  to  be  very  tired,  stretched  himself  in  front 
of  the  fire,  and,  in  a  short  time,  closed  his  eyes,  ap- 
parently in  deep  sleep. 

One  by  one  the  savages  retired.  Finally  nothing 
was  heard  in  the  encampment  but  their  heavy  and 
measured  snores.  Listening  intently,  in  order  to  as- 
certain whether  there  was  any  fear  of  discovery, 
Boone,  satisfied  that  no  one  was  on  the  watch,  opened 
his  eyes  and  peered  cautiously  round.  In  a  few  mo- 
ments he  rose  to  a  sitting  posture,  and  softly  awak- 
ened his  companion.  With  the  greatest  care  Boone 
and  Stewart  now  lifted  themselves  to  their  feet,  and, 


THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

creeping  step  by  step,  as  silent  as  death,  succeeded 
in  getting  out  of  the  circle  of  their  foes.  Casting  an 
expressive  glance  at  his  companion  (for  he  did  not 
dare  to  speak,  even  in  a  whisper),  Boone  next  made 
his  way  to  the  place  where  the  rifles  had  been  laid. 
Stewart  followed;  each  secured  a  gun  and  ammuni- 
tion, the  forest  was  reached,  and,  in  a  few  moments, 
the  fugitives  were  on  their  way  toward  the  camp  of 
their  friends. 

They  traveled  with  the  utmost  expedition,  and,  on 
the  evening  of  the  second  day,  arrived  at  their  desti- 
nation. Uncertain  whether  to  hesitate  or  go  for- 
ward— for  they  were  in  doubt  with  regard  to  the  safety 
of  their  comrades — they  approached  it  cautiously.  To 
their  surprise,  it  was  deserted  and  no  trace  remained 
to  indicate  what  had  become  of  its  former  occu- 
pants. They  evidently  had  not  been  killed,  for  there 
was  no  sign  of  recent  violence  ;  and  Boone  concluded 
that  they  had  either  been  attacked  while  in  camp,  and 
taken  prisoners,  or  else  that  they  had  returned  home. 
The  mystery,  however,  was  difficult  to  solve ;  and,  it 
may  be  added  that,  to  his  dying  day,  Boone  received 
no  intelligence  whatever  of  the  unfortunate  men,  and 
that  his  final  conclusion  was  that  they  had  been  car- 
ried off  by  the  savages,  and  either  killed  by  them 
or  else  adopted  into  one  of  their  tribes. 

On  the  day  after  the  arrival  of  Boone  and  Stewart 
at  the  deserted  camp,  they  were  alarmed,  about  dusk, 
by  the  report  of  two  guns,  and,  fearing  that  the 
Indians  from  whom  they  had  escaped  had  followed 
their  trail,  and  were  bent  on  their  recapture,  they 


INCIDENTS    IN    THE    LIFE    OF    BOONE.  337 

concealed  themselves  in  a  thick  undergrowth  of 
bushes,  and  awaited  developments.  Presently  they 
perceived,  at  some  distance,  two  forms  gliding  among 
the  trees  toward  the  spot  where  they  lay  concealed ; 
and  they  were  immediately  convinced  of  the  cor- 
rectness of  their  suspicions.  The  forms  came  nearer, 
and  the  men  looked  anxiously  toward  them,  seeking 
to  ascertain  whether  they  were  friends  or  foes;  but, 
owing  to  the  uncertainty  of  the  light,  they  could  not 
distinguish.  Slowly  and  cautiously  the  mysterious 
forms  approached,  until  finally  they  arrived  within 
speaking  distance.  Grasping  his  rifle,  'Boone  boldly 
stepped  forward,  and,  in  a  firm  voice,  addressed  them 
with  the  challenge : 

"Who  comes  there?" 

"White  men  and  friends!"  was  the  prompt  reply. 

"  Come  on,  then !"  rejoined  Boone,  and  the  next 
moment,  to  his  inexpressible  delight,  his  hand  was 
seized  by  his  brother,  who,  with  a  single  companion, 
had  left  North  Carolina,  crossed  the  mountains,  and 
penetrated  the  wilderness  in  search  of  him  and  his 
party.  That  night  was  spent  in  thanksgiving  and 
rejoicing.  Hope,  which  had  sunk  so  low  in  the 
breasts  of  Boone  and  Stewart,  again  revived ;  proj- 
ects of  exploration  and  adventure  were  formed  by 
the  enthusiastic  hunters,  and  for  the  moment  the 
dangers  to  which  they  were  subjected  from  the  wil- 
derness and  from  hostile  Indians  were  forgotten. 

The  next  morning  the  four  adventurers  rose  be- 
times. Boone  succeeded  in  killing  a  fine  buck  before 
breakfast,  and,  after  making  a  bountiful  repast  on 


338  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

the  animal,  the  hunters  struck  out  in  a  southerly  di- 
rection, with  the  intention  of  exploring  that  unknown 
region. 

Soon  they  discovered,  by  certain  signs,  that  they 
were  in  a  dangerous  neighborhood.  Two  large  In- 
dian trails  were  noticed,  and,  on  two  or  three  occa- 
sions, the  reports  of  distant  rifles  were  heard. 
Boone,  who  was  the  recognized  leader  of  the  party, 
ordered  that  they  should  keep  close  together,  and 
that  on  no  condition  should  any  one  leave  his  com- 
panions for  a  moment.  In  spite  of  this  strict  injunc- 
tion, however,  he  was  himself  the  first  to  disregard 
its  terms.  In  the  eagerness  of  pursuing  a  wounded 
buffalo,  he  rashly  separated  himself  from  the  rest  of 
the  party.  He  was  followed  by  Stewart.  The  ani- 
mal was  killed,  and  the  two  friends  started  to  return  ; 
but,  before  they  had  gone  far,  a  number  of  savages 
rushed  upon  them  from  a  canebrake,  and  discharged 
a  flight  of  arrows.  Stewart  fell,  pierced  to  the  heart, 
but  Boone  providentially  escaped,  and,  by  swift  run- 
ning reached  the  camp,  when,  informing  his  two 
companions  of  their  danger,  he  ordered  them  to  fol- 
low him ;  and  the  party  flew  with  such  speed  that 
they  succeeded  in  getting  away,  and  the  designs  of 
the  crafty  Indians  were  baffled. 

Soon  after  this  calamitous  adventure,  another  of 
the  party  suffered  an  equally  ruthless,  and  a  still  more 
melancholy  fate.  The  companion  of  Boone's  brother 
one  day  became  separated  from  his  friends.  He  did 
not  return,  and  the  two  Boones,  alarmed  for  his 
safety,  sought  for  him  long  and  painfully.  The  miss- 


INCIDENTS    IN    THE    LIFE  OF    BOONE.  339 

ing  man  was  not  found,  and  the  brothers  were  left 
alone  in  the  wilderness.  A  few  days  afterward 
Boone  picked  up  some  torn  and  bloody  shreds  of 
clothes,  and,  a  short  distance  from  the  place  where 
these  were  found,  the  bones  of  a  human  being  lay 
scattered  on  the  ground.  The  unfortunate  man,  they 
now  concluded,  had  been  attacked  by  wild  animals 
and  torn  to  pieces.  This,  indeed,  was  his  fate,  for 
he  was  never  heard  of  afterwards. 

Boone  and  his  brother  were  now  the  solitary  white 
occupants  of  this  wild  and  dangerous  region.  They 
lamented  the  sad  fates  of  their  companions,  but,  as 
they  were  bold  and  fearless,  they  did  not  despair, 
and,  resuming  their  march  through  the  forest,  deter- 
mined to  be  of  good  cheer,  and  expect  a  fortunate 
future  as  the  reward  of  heroism  and  effort. 

In  the  course  of  a  few  weeks,  the  adventurers 
found,  to  their  great  concern,  that  their  supply  of 
ammunition  was  nearly  out,  and.  it  was  accordingly 
decided  that  one  of  them  should  return  to  North 
Carolina  for  fresh  quantities,  while  the  other  should 
remain  in  the  forest.  Lots  were  drawn,  and  the 
performance  of  the  mission  fell  upon  Boone's  brother. 

For  several  months  Boone  remained  alone  in  the 
Kentucky  wilderness.  To  most  men,  a  situation  so  for- 
lorn, and  seemingly  so  perilous,  would  have  been  quite 
the  opposite  of  agreeable.  But  the  romantic  grand- 
eur of  the  country,  where  not  a  tree  had  been  felled, 
and  not  a  habitation  had  been  raised,  was,  to  the  ad- 
venturous nature  of  Daniel  Boone,  an  inexhaustible 
source  of  delight;  and,  as  he  often  declared  after- 


THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

wards,  some  of  the  most  rapturous  moments  of  his 
life  were  passed  in  his  lonely  rambles  through  this 
unbroken  wilderness.  Although  he  saw  many  signs 
of  Indians,  and  often  heard  their  savage  yells,  and 
got  glimpses  of  their  dusky  forms,  while  he  lay  con- 
cealed in  canebrakes,  or  among  the  branches  of 
trees,  he  fortunately  never  came  to  an  encounter 
with  them. 

His  brother  returned  on  the  twenty-seventh  day 
of  July,  1770,  with  the  supply  of  ammunition  which 
he  had  gone  to  fetch.  For  nearly  a  year  longer  the 
brothers  ranged  the  forest  with  a  fearlessness  and 
hardihood  scarcely  credible.  Finally,  in  March, 
1771,  they  left  their  wild  haunts,  and  set  out  for 
their  homes  in  North  Carolina.  The  journey  was 
made  in  safety;  and  Daniel  Boone,  after  an  absence 
of  two  years,  during  which  time  he  had  tasted  neither 
bread  nor  salt,  and  seen  no  human  being  but  his 
brother,  his  unfortunate  companions,  and  his  savage 
enemies,  once  more  enjoyed,  for  a  time,  the  quiets 
and  comforts  of  domestic  peace. 

Before  many  months  had  passed,  Boone,  tiring  of 
his  uneventful  life,  formed  the  resolution  to  remove 
his  family  to  the  beautiful  and  delightful  country  which 
had  been  to  him  the  source  of  so  much  agreeable  ad- 
venture. Accordingly,  on  the  26th  of  September, 
1773,  he  started  with  his  wife  and  children  and  a 
body  of  emigrants  for  Kentucky. 

In  Powell's  valley  the  party  was  joined  by  five 
more  families  and  a  reinforcement  of  forty  men  well 
armed.  The  whole  body  now  consisted  of  nearly 


JS  FOR  INDIAN  LKGJSMJS. 


INCIDENTS    IN   THE    LIFE    OF    BOONE.  343 

eighty  persons, — certainly  a  sufficient  number  to  in- 
spire confidence  in  the  hearts  of  even  the  most 
timorous. 

Marching  across  the  ridges  of  the  Alleghanies, 
the  emigrants  enjoyed  a  safe  and  agreeable  jour- 
ney until  they  reached  the  west  side  of  Walden's 
ridge,  a  range  of  the  Cumberland  Mountains.  They 
were  here  destined  to  experience  a  most  appalling 
reverse  of  fortune. 

On  the  loth  of  October,  while  they  were  making 
their  way  through  a  narrow  defile,  a  terrible  yell 
suddenly  burst  from  a  neighboring  wood,  and  an 
Indian  war-party  rushed  forward,  surrounded  them, 
and,  before  the  men  had  time  to  repel  the  attack, 
discharged  a  volley  into  their  midst.  Six  men  were 
killed  and  a  seventh  man  wounded.  Boone  immedi- 
ately rallied  his  party ;  a  general  discharge  followed, 
many  of  the  Indians  fell,  and  the  rest  of  the  attack- 
ing party,  who  had  not  looked  for  so  stubborn  a 
resistance,  were  thrown  into  confusion  and  fled  in 
terror. 

When  the  men  were  certain  that  their  enemies 
had  in  reality  been  repulsed,  and  did  not  meditate 
another  assault,  they  proceeded  to  look  to  their 
killed  and  wounded,  and  to  collect  their  horses, 
many  of  which  had  run  away.  To  his  unspeakable 
sorrow,  Boone  found  that  his  eldest  son  was  among 
the  killed.  Grief-stricken  and  disheartened,  he  threw 
himself  on  the  ground  and  wept  like  a  child.  In  a 
moment,  however,  he  recovered  his  usual  composure, 
arose,  and  gave  the  order  to  proceed. 


344  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

A  new  discouragement  was  in  store  for  him.  The 
women  and  children  were  terrified,  and  clamorously 
besought  him  to  return.  Most  of  the  men  stood 
sullen  and  dejected,  and,  on  his  addressing  them, 
signified  their  determination  to  abandon  the  enter- 
prise. Entreaties  and  threats  were  alike  vain :  and 
Boone  was  finally  obliged  to  give  his  consent  to  the 
request  which  his  companions  made  with  so  great 
unanimity,  turn  back,  and  retrace  his  steps  to  a 
settlement  on  the  Clinch  River,  forty  miles  from  the 
scene  of  action. 

At  this  place  Boone  was  obliged  to  remain,  unem- 
ployed and  inactive,  during  the  winter  and  spring. 
No  representations  of  his  regarding  the  beauty,  fer- 
tility, and  security  of  the  Kentucky  country  could 
induce  his  companions  to  again  take  up  the  march. 
Finally,  in  June,  1774,  he  received  a  message  from 
Governor  Dunmore,  of  Virginia,  requesting  him  to 
act  as  a  guide  to  a  party  of  surveyors,  whom  he  was 
about  to  dispatch  to  the  Falls  of  the  Ohio.  Boone 
complied  with  alacrity.  The  journey  was  made,  and 
he  returned  with  still  more  favorable  reports  of  the 
grandeur  of  the  country. 

In  1775,  Boone  set  out  with  a  party  of  about 
twenty  men  on  another  expedition  to  Kentucky. 
His  object  this  time  was  to  mark  out  a  route  and 
clear  a  road  for  the  passage  of  pack-horses  and 
emigrant  wagons.  This  duty  was  extremely  labo- 
rious, and  before  long  he  found  it  very  dangerous. 
His  little  band  of  followers  was  attacked  on  the 
22d  of  March  by  a  vastly  superior  force  of  Indians, 


INCIDENTS   IN   THE    LIFE   OF    BOONE.  345 

The  savages  were  in  the  end  repulsed  with  heavy 
loss,  but  four  of  the  whites  were  killed  or  wounded. 
On  the  next  day  the  enemy  again  appeared  and 
assailed  the  intruders  with  great  fury.  They  were 
not  driven  back  until  five  more  of  the  devoted  band 
fell  victims  to  their  wrath.  Continuing  his  progress 
in  spite  of  all  obstacles,  Boone  finally  arrived,  on 
the  ist  day  of  April,  at  a  point  which,  from  the 
advantages  of  its  natural  position,  seemed  to  afford 
a  good  location  for  a  settlement.  He  accordingly 
called  a  halt,  and  with  his  companions  set  to  work 
to  build  a  fort.  The  Indians,  enraged  at  the  pre- 
sumption of  the  white  men  in  attempting  to  con- 
struct a  habitation  in  the  midst  ©f  their  favorite 
hunting-ground,  made  numerous  attacks ;  but  noth- 
ing could  equal  the  resolution  and  perseverance  of 
Boone,  who,  encouraging  his  men  in  their  labors, 
pushed  the  work  forward  so  rapidly  that  in  fourteen 
days  the  structure  was  completed.  The  fort,  which 
he  named  Boonesborough,  was  no  sooner  built  than 
he  departed,  returned  to  Clinch  River,  and,  disposing 
of  every  thing  which  he  possessed,  except  his  most 
necessary  private  effects,  removed  with  his  family 
to  the  Kentucky  settlement.  Mrs.  Boone  and  her 
daughters  were  the  first  white  women  who  stood 
upon  the  banks  of  the  Kentucky  River. 

Thus  established  on  a  firm  footing,  the  infant 
colony  soon  grew  in  size  and  strength  until  it  em- 
braced a  number  of  families,  and  was  fortified  by  a 
respectable  garrison.  Encouraged  by  the  successful 
enterprise  of  Boone  and  his  comrades,  adventurers 


346  THE   BACK-WOODSMEN. 

from  the  East  and  North-east  were  not  slow  to  seek 
the  Kentucky  wilds  and  develop  the  remarkable  re- 
sources of  that  favored  region.  Settlements  sprang 
up  all  along  the  Kentucky  banks  of  the  Ohio;  and 
in  the  course  of  a  few  years  the  country  which  had 
before  been  an  unbroken  wilderness  began  to  assume 
a  civilized  aspect. 

Before,  however,  this  change  took  place,  the  lit- 
tle band  of  pioneers  at  Boonesborough  had  to  pass 
through  a  most  trying  experience.  The  Indians 
were  troublesome  and  vindictive,  and  made  many 
attacks  on  the  fort.  "The  garrison  was  incessantly 
harassed  by  flying  parties  of  Indians.  While  plow- 
ing their  corn  they  were  waylaid  and  shot;  while 
hunting  they  were  chased  and  fired  upon ;  and  some- 
times a  solitary  Indian  would  creep  up  near  the  fort 
in  the  night  and  fire  upon  the  first  of  the  garrison 
who  appeared  in  the  morning.  They  were  in  a  con- 
stant state  of  anxiety  and  alarm,  and  the  most  ordi- 
nary duties  could  only  be  performed  at  the  risk  of 
their  lives." 

During  these  years  of  struggle,  danger,  and  hard- 
ship, Boone  was  constantly  watchful  and  active.  To 
him  the  garrison  owed  not  only  its  original  existence, 
but  indeed  its  preservation  through  the  long  and 
bloody  Indian  wars.  On  several  occasions  he  him- 
self very  narrowly  escaped.  One  of  his  adventures 
is  thus  related  by  an  entertaining  writer : 

"One  morning,  in  1777,  several  men  in  the  field 
near  Boonesborough  were  attacked  by  Indians,  and 
ran  toward  the  fort.  One  was  overtaken  and  tonia- 


INCIDENTS    IN    THE    LIFE    OF    BOONE.  347 

hawked  within  seventy  yards  of  the  fort,  and,  while 
being  scalped,  Simon  Kenton  shot  the  warrior  dead. 
Daniel  Boone,  with  thirteen  men,  hastened  to  help 
his  friends,  but  they  were  intercepted  by  a  large  body 
of  Indians,  who  got  between  them  and  the  fort.  At 
the  first  fire  from  the  Indians,  seven  whites  were 
wounded,  among  them  the  gallant  Boone.  An  In- 
dian sprang  upon  him  with  uplifted  tomahawk ;  but 
Kenton,  quick  as  a  tiger,  sprang  toward  the  Indian, 
discharged  his  gun  into  his  breast,  snatched  up  the 
body  of  his  noble  leader,  and  bore  it  safely  into  the 
fort.  When  the  gate  was  closed  securely  against  the 
Indians,  Boone  sent  for  Kenton:  'Well,  Simon,'  said 
the  grateful  old  pioneer,  'you  have  behaved  yourself 
like  a  man  to-day;  indeed,  you  are  a  fine  fellow.' 
Boone  was  a  remarkably  silent  man,  and  this  was 
great  praise  from  him." 

Though  Boone  escaped  death,  he  was  not  destined 
to  live  entirely  free  from  misfortune.  In  February, 
1778,  he,  with  twenty-seven  companions,  was  sur- 
prised by  a  large  war-party  of  Indians  and  compelled 
to  surrender.  The  prisoners  were  well  treated  by 
their  captors,  who,  for  their  race,  were  very  humane; 
and  were  inarched  forthwith  to  Chillicothe,  the  cel- 
ebrated and  important  Indian  village. 

The  sagacity  and  shrewdness  which  characterized 
Daniel  Boone's  entire  career,  and  which  he  displayed 
so  signally  during  his  first  captivity  among  the  sav- 
ages, did  not  desert  him  at  this  critical  juncture.  He 
at  once  accepted  the  inevitable,  showed  himself  to  be 
tractable  and  submissive,  and  soon  became  such  3. 


348  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

favorite  with  his  captors  that,  far  from  devoting  him 
to  torture,  or  in  any  way  maltreating  him,  they  at 
once  proposed  to  admit  him  into  their  tribe,  and 
would  listen  to 'no  offers  of  ransom.  On  arriving  at 
Chillicothe,  he  was  treated  with  the  greatest  consid- 
eration, and  the  simple  savages,  pleased  with  the 
thought  that  so  famous  a  hunter  had  voluntarily 
joined  their  numbers,  admitted  him  into  their  coun- 
cils and  permitted  him  to  participate  in  their  games 
and  revels.  He  was  always  invited  to  their  shooting- 
matches,  and  on  these  occasions  he  displayed  his 
acute  observation  and  thorough  knowledge  of  man- 
kind in  a  most  admirable  manner.  He  was  aware 
that,  particularly  among  the  Indians,  no  feeling  was 
more  painful,  or  awakened  greater  resentment,  than 
the  sense  of  inferiority ;  and  he  shot  well  enough  to 
make  it  an  honor  for  his  opponents  to  excel  him  ; 
but  took  care  not  to  beat  them  too  often. 

Soon  after  his  arrival  at  Chillicothe,  Boone  was 
taken  to  Detroit.  Here  he  met  the  British  official, 
Governor  Hamilton,  who,  sympathizing  deeply  with 
him  in  his  misfortunes,  and  entertaining  the  profound- 
est  regard  for  his  character,  at  once  offered  one  hun- 
dred pounds  for  his  ransom ;  but  the  affection  of  the 
Indians  for  their  prisoner  was  so  great  that,  after  a 
brief  consultation,  they  refused  the  tempting  prire. 
A  number  of  English  gentlemen,  who  saw  and  con- 
versed with  the  captive,  were  also  very  favorably  im- 
pressed, and  a  large  subscription  purse  was  made  up 
and  offered  to  the  savages  in  exchange  for  the  pris- 
oner. It  was  now  that  Daniel  Boone's  high  an4 


INCIDENTS   IN   THE   LIFE   OF   BOONE.  349 

noble  spirit  of  independence  displayed  itself  in  a 
most  remarkable  manner.  He  thanked  his  admirers 
for  their  good  opinion,  and  expressed  his  sincere 
gratitude  for  the  generosity  which  actuated  them ;  but 
he  manfully  refused  to  accept  favors  -which  it  would 
never  be  in  his  power  to  return.  He  then  turned 
to  the  savages  and  signified  his  readiness  to  accom- 
pany them  back  into  captivity. 

A  few  days  after,  the  Indians  set  out  with  their 
prisoner  for  Chillicothe.  Boone  was  received  with 
great  distinction;  but  when  the  warriors,  who  had 
gone  with  him  to  Detroit,  told  their  companions  of 
his  conduct,  their  enthusiasm  for  the  noble  Kentuck- 
ian  exceeded  all  bounds.  No  longer  suspecting  him 
of  any  secret  design  to  escape,  they  allowed  him  to 
exercise  perfect  liberty  of  action.  They  frequently 
sent  him  out  to  hunt ;  but,  in  order  that  he  might  not 
be  enabled  to  take  advantage  of  any  temptation 
which  might  be  thrown  in  his  way,  they  allowed  him 
but  a  limited  quantity  of  ammunition,  and  required 
him  to  bring  in  a  dead  animal  for  every  ball  and 
charge  of  powder  given  him. 

To  his  great  concern,  Boone  discovered,  soon  after 
his  return  from  Detroit,  that  a  large  war-party  of  In- 
dians was  being  organized  for  the  purpose  of  march- 
ing against  his  companions  at  Boonesborough.  The 
braves  who  had  already  gathered  numbered  about 
one  hundred  and  fifty,  and  this  formidable  band  was 
to  be  reinforced  by  other  parties  on  the  way.  Boone 
knew  that  the  settlers  would  be  totally  unprepared 

for  attack,  and  feared  that,  unless  they  were  warned 
21 


350  THE   BACK-WOODSMEN. 

of  the  intentions  of  their  enemies,  they  would  be 
crushed  at  one  blow.  He  determined,  at  any  cost,  to 
escape,  march  quickly  to  the  fort,  and  take  every 
necessary  measure  for  protecting  the  lives  and  prop- 
erty of  his  friends  from  their  ruthless  enemies. 

Boone  soon  laid  his  plan  of  action.  He  continued 
to  hunt  as  before,  but,  with  a  craftiness  truly  admira- 
ble, he  outwitted  his  vigilant  masters.  He  still  gave 
a  strict  account  of  the  bullets  which  he  received,  and 
voluntarily  turned  over  all  the  powder  and  ball  in  his 
possession  each  evening  upon  his  return  from  the 
hunt,  together  with  game  for  each  bullet  and  charge 
which  he  had  used  in  the  course  of  the  day.  But, 
though  seemingly  so  exact,  he  contrived  to  lay  up  a 
quantity  of  ammunition  for  his  proposed  journey. 
Each  morning,  on  setting  out,  he  took  about  a  dozen 
balls  from  his  pouch  and  divided  them  with  his  knife. 
Half  of  the  balls  which  he  thus  divided  he  used  in 
the  chase ;  the  other  half  he  carefully  secreted  in  a 
hole.  By  using  very  small  charges  he  managed  to 
lay  aside  a  quantity  of  powder.  When  he  had  ac- 
cumulated a  sufficient  store  in  this  way,  and  made 
his  final  observations  on  the  band  of  hostile  warriors, 
he  set  out  early  one  morning,  secured  the  hidden 
ammunition,  and  started  for  home.  He  traveled  wiih 
all  possible  dispatch.  The  distance  was  above  one 
hundred  and  sixty  miles;  and  some  idea  of  the  re- 
markable powers  of  Boone  may  be  obtained  when  it 
is  stated  that,  although  at  this  period  nearly  fifty- 
seven  years  old,  he  performed  it  in  four  days'  time. 
His  anxiety  was  so  great  that  he  ate  but  one  meal  on 


INCIDENTS   IN   THE   LIFE   OF   BOONE.  35 1 

the  way.  He  was  received  by  the  garrison  as  one 
risen  from  the  dead.  Every  one  supposed  him  to 
have  been  killed,  and  his  wife  had,  under  this  im- 
pression, returned  with  her  children  to  North  Car- 
olina. The  works  of  the  fort  were  immediately  re- 
paired ;  new  gates,  new  flanks,  and  double  bastions 
were  made,  and  in  a  few  days  what  had  been  a  dilap- 
idated structure  on  Boone's  return,  was  a  tower  of 
strength. 

The  event  proved  that  Boone's  arrival  was  very 
opportune.  The  savages,  owing  to  his  escape,  de- 
termined to  postpone  their  attack ;  but,  in  the  course 
of  a  few  weeks,  skirmishing  parties  began  to  appear, 
and  these  were  soon  followed  by  the  main  body  of 
savages,  eight  hundred  strong,  which,  investing  the 
fort,  prepared  to  give  it  a  regular  siege. 

In  the  severe  trial  which  followed,  Boone's  wisdom 
and  heroism  shone  conspicuous.  To  describe  the 
siege  in  detail  would  extend  this  sketch  beyond  all 
bounds ;  and  it  therefore  will  be  sufficient  merely  to 
give  its  general  results.  It  lasted  for  eight  days, 
and  on  the  ninth  the  attacking  party,  seeing  no  pros- 
pect of  speedy  success,  and  thoroughly  discouraged 
by  the  great  loss  which  they  had  suffered,  gave  up 
the  attempt  and  returned.  The  garrison  lost  two 
men  killed  and  four  wounded.  The  loss  of  the  be- 
siegers was  thifty-seven  killed  and  many  wounded. 
This  was  the  last  siege  ever  experienced  by  the  set- 
tlers at  Boonesborough,  since  the  country  was  now 
well  opened,  and  since  a  number  of  thriving  settle- 
ments had  sprung  up  between  the  fort  and  the  Ohio, 


352  THE  BACK-WOODSMEN. 

,  Boone's  captivity  at  Chillicothe  was  his  last  ex- 
perience as  a  prisoner  among  the  Indians.  On  sev- 
eral other  occasions  he  came  very  near  being  en- 
trapped, and  once,  as  our  readers  shall  hear,  was 
actually  taken ;  but  each  time  he  saved  himself  by 
flight  or  presence  of  mind.  The  following  char- 
acteristic incident  will  illustrate  his  great  intelligence 
and  remarkable  mastery  of  strategy: 

"  He  was  once  resting  in  the  woods,  with  a  small 
number  of  followers,  when  a  large  party  of  Indians 
came  suddenly  upon  them  and  halted — neither  party 
having  discovered  the  other  until  they  came  in  con- 
tact. The  whites  were  eating;  and  the  Indians,  with 
the  ready  tact  for  which  they  are  famous,  sat  down 
with  perfect  composure  and  commenced  eating  also. 
It  was  obvious  that  they  wished  to  lull  the  suspicions 
of  the  white  men,  and  to  seize  a  favorable  opportu- 
nity for  rushing  upon  them.  Boone  affected  a  careless 
inattention  ;  but,  in  an  under  tone,  quietly  admonished 
his  men  to  keep  their  hands  upon  their  rifles.  He 
then  strolled  towards  the  Indians,  unarmed,  and  leis- 
urely picking  the  meat  from  a  bone;  the  Indian 
leader,  who  was  similarly  employed,  rose  to  meet 
him. 

"  Boone  saluted  him,  and  then  requested  to  look 
at  the  knife  with  which  the   Indian  was  cutting  his 

cv 

meat.  The  chief  handed  it  to  him  without  hesitation ; 
and  our  pioneer,  who,  with  his  other  accomplish- 
ments, possessed  considerable  expertness  at  sleight 
of  hand,  deliberately  opened  his  mouth  and  affected 
to  swallow  the  long  knife,  which,  at  the  same  instant, 


INCIDENTS   IN   THE   LIFE   OF   BOONE.  353 

he  threw  adroitly  into  his  sleeve.  The  Indians  were 
astonished;  Boone  gulped,  rubbed  his  throat,  stroked 
his  body,  and  then,  with  apparent  satisfaction,  pro- 
nounced the  horrid  mouthful  to  be  very  good.  Hav- 
ing enjoyed  the  surprise  of  the  spectators  for  a  few 
moments,  he  made  another  contortion,  and  drawing 
forth  the  knife,  as  they  supposed,  from  his  body,  civ- 
illy returned  it  to  the  chief.  The  latter  took  the 
point  cautiously  between  his  thumb  and  ringer,  as 
if  fearful  of  being  contaminated  by  touching  the 
weapon,  and  threw  it  from  him  into  the  bushes.  The 
pioneer  sauntered  back  to  his  party;  and  the  Indi- 
ans, instantly  dispatching  their  meal,  marched  off, 
desiring  no  farther  intercourse  with  a  man  who  could 
swallow  a  scalping-knife." 

The  amusing  anecdote  f^iven  below  is  taken  from 
Peck's  "Life  of  Boone:" 

"  Though  the  delicacy  of  Colonel  Boone's  organ- 
ization was  such  that  he  could  never  himself  relish 
tobacco  in  any  form,  he  still  raised  some  for  his 
friends  and  neighbors,  and  for  what  were  then 
deemed  the  essential  rites  of  hospitality. 

"As  a  shelter  for  curing  the  tobacco,  he  had  built 
an  inclosure  of  rails  a  dozen  feet  in  height  and  cov- 
ered with  canes  and  grass.  Stalks  of  tobacco  are 
generally  split  and  strung  on  sticks  about  four  feet  in 
length.  The  ends  of  these  are  laid  on  poles  placed 
across  the  tobacco-house,  and  in  tiers  one  above 
another,  to  the  roof.  Boone  had  fixed  his  temporary 
shelter  in  such  a  manner  as  to  have  three  tiers.  He 
had  covered  the  lower  tier,  and  the  tobacco  had  be- 


354  THE  BACK-WOODSMEN, 

come  dry ;  when  he  entered  the  shelter  for  the  pur- 
pose of  removing  the  sticks  to  the  upper  tier,  prepar- 
atory to  gathering  the  remainder  of  the  crop.  He 
had  hoisted  up  the  sticks  from  the  lower  to  the  sec- 
ond tier,  and  was  standing  on  the  poles  which  sup- 
ported it,  while  raising  the  sticks  to  the  upper  tier, 
when  four  stout  Indians,  with  guns,  entered  the  low 
door  and  called  him  by  name. 

" '  Now,  Boone,  we  got  you.  You  no  get  away 
more.  We  carry  you  off  to  Chillicothe  this  time. 
You  no  cheat  us  any  more.' 

"  Boone  looked  down  upon  their  upturned  faces, 
saw  their  loaded  guns  pointed  at  his  breast,  and  rec- 
ognizing some  of  his  old  friends,  the  Shawanese,  who 
had  made  him  prisoner  near  the  Blue  Licks  in  1778, 
coolly  and  pleasantly  responded  : 

"  'Ah,  old  friends,  glad  to  see  you.' 

"  Perceiving  that  they  manifested  impatience  to 
have  him  come  down,  he  told  them  he  was  quite  will- 
ing to  go  with  them,  and  only  begged  that  they 
would  wait  where  they  were,  and  watch  him  closely 
until  he  could  finish  removing  the  tobacco. 

"While  thus  parleying  with  them,  Boone  inquired 
earnestly  respecting  his  old  friends  in  Chillicothe. 
He  continued  for  some  time  to  divert  the  attention  of 
these  simple-minded  men,  by  allusions  to  past  events 
with  which  they  were  familiar,  and  by  talking  of  his 
tobacco,  his  mode  of  curing  it,  and  promising  them 
an  abundant  supply.  With  their  guns  in  their  hands, 
however,  they  stood  at  the  door  of  the  shed,  grouped 
closely  together  so  as  to  render  his  escape  apparently 


BOONE  ESCAPES  BY  STRATEGY. 


INCIDENTS    IN    THE    LIFE    OF    BOONE.  357 

impossible.  In  the  meantime,  Boone  carefully  gath- 
ered his  arms  full  of  the  long,  dry  tobacco  leaves, 
filled  with  pungent  dust,  which  would  be  blinding  and 
stifling  as  the  most  powerful  snuff,  and  then  with  a 
leap  from  his  station  twelve  feet  high,  came  directly 
upon  their  heads,  filling  their  eyes  and  nostrils,  and 
so  bewildering  and  disabling  them  for  the  moment, 
that  they  lost  all  self-possession  and  all  self-control. 

"  Boone,  agile  as  a  deer,  darted  out  at  the  door, 
and  in  a  moment  was  in  his  bullet-proof  log-hut, 
which  to  him  was  an  impregnable  citadel.  Loop- 
holes guarded  every  approach.  The  Indians  could 
not  show  themselves  without  exposure  to  certain 
death.  They  were  too  well  acquainted  with  the  un- 
erring aim  of  Boone's  rifle  to  venture  within  its 
range.  Keeping  the  log-cabin  between  them  and 
their  redoubtable  foe,  the  baffled  Indians  fled  into 
the  wilderness. 

"  Colonel  Boone  related  this  adventure  with  great 
glee,  imitating  the  gestures  of  the  bewildered  Indians. 
He  said  that,  notwithstanding  his  narrow  escape,  he 
could  not  resist  the  temptation,  as  he  reached  the 
door  of  his  cabin,  to  look  around  to  witness  the  effect 
of  his  achievement.  The  Indians  coughing,  sneezing, 
blinded  and  almost  suffocated  by  the  tobacco  dust, 
were  throwing  out  their  arms  and  groping  about  in 
all  directions,  cursing  him  for  a  rogue  and  calling 
themselves  fools." 

The  following  remarkable  anecdote  of  Boone  is 
taken  from  the  "  Ornithological  Biography"  of  the 
renowned  naturalist,  J.  J.  Audubon,  whot  during  his 


358  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

travels  in  America,  visited  the  famous  hunter  in  his 
home  in  Missouri,  to  which  he  removed  from  Ken- 
tucky in  about  1 800  : 

"  Daniel  Boone,  or,  as  he  was  usually  called  in  the 
Western  country,  Colonel  Boone,  happened  to  spend 
a  night  with  me  under  the  same  roof,  more  than 
twenty  years  ago.  We  had  returned  from  a  shoot- 
ing excursion,  in  the  course  of  which  his  extraordi- 
nary skill  in  the  management  of  the  rifle  had  been 
fully  displayed.  On  retiring  to  the  room  appropri- 
ated to  that  remarkable,  individual  and  myself  for 
the  night,  I  felt  anxious  to  know  more  of  his  exploits 
and  adventures  than  I  did,  and  accordingly  took  the 
liberty  of  proposing  numerous  questions  to  him. 

"  The  stature  and  general  appearance  of  this  wan- 
derer of  the  Western  forests  approached  the  gigantic. 
His  chest  was  broad  and  prominent,  his  muscular 
powers  displayed  themselves  in  every  limb ;  his  coun- 
tenance gave  indication  of  his  great  courage,  enter- 
prise, and  perseverance ;  and,  when  he  spoke,  the 
very  motion  of  his  lips  brought  the  impression  that 
whatever  he  uttered  could  not  be  otherwise  than 
strictly  true.  I  undressed,  while  he  merely  took  off 
his  hunting-shirt,  and  arranged  a  few  folds  of  blan- 
kets on  the  floor,  choosing  rather  to  lie  there,  as  he 
observed,  than  on  the  softest  bed.  When  we  had 
both  disposed  of  ourselves,  each  after  his  own  fash- 
ion, he  related  to  me  the  following  account  of  his 
powers  of  memory,  which  I  lay  before  you,  kind 
reader,  in  his  own  words,  hoping  that  the  simplicity 
of  his  style  may  prove  interesting  to  you  : 


INCIDENTS    IN    THE    LIFE    OF    BOONE.  359 

" '  I  was  once,'  said  he,  '  on  a  hunting  expedition 
on  the  banks  of  the  Green  River,  when  the  lower  parts 
of  Kentucky  were  still  in  the  hands  of  nature,  and 
none  but  the  sons  of  the  soil  were  looked  upon  as  its 
lawful  proprietors.  We  Virginians  had,  for  some  time, 
been  waging  a  war  of  intrusion  upon  them,  and  I, 
among  the  rest,  rambled  through  the  woods  in  pur- 
suit of  their  race,  as  I  now  would  follow  the  tracks 
of  any  ravenous  animal.  The  Indians  outwitted  me 
one  dark  night,  and  I  was  as  unexpectedly  as  sud- 
denly made  a  prisoner  by  them. 

"'The  trick  had  been  managed  with  great  skill; 
for  no  sooner  had  I  extinguished  the  fire  of  my 
camp,  and  laid  me  down  to  rest  in  full  security,  as  I 
thought,  than  I  felt  myself  seized  by  an  undistinguish- 
able  number  of  hands,  and  was  immediately  pinioned, 
as  if  about  to  be  led  to  the  scaffold  for  execution.  To 
have  attempted  to  be  refractory,  would  have  proved 
useless  and  dangerous  to  my  life,  and  I  suffered  my- 
self to  be  removed  from  my  camp  to  theirs,  a  few 
miles  distant,  without  uttering  a  word  of  complaint. 
You  are  aware,  I  dare  say,  that  to  act  in  this  manner 
was  the  best  policy,  as  you  understand  that,  by  so 
doing,  I  proved  to  the  Indians  at  once  that  I  was 
born  and  bred  as  fearless  of  death  as  any  of  them- 
selves. 

"  '  When  we  reached  the  camp,  great  rejoicings 
were  exhibited.  Two  squaws  and  a  few  papooses 
appeared  particularly  delighted  at  the  sight  of  me, 
and  I  was  assured,  by  every  unequivocal  gesture  and 
word,  that  on  the  morrow  the  mortal  enemy  of  the 


360  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

red-skins  would  cease  to  live.  I  never  opened  my 
lips,  but  was  busy  contriving  some  scheme  which  might 
enable  me  to  give  the  rascals  a  slip  before  dawn. 
The  women  immediately  fell  a-searching  about  my 
hunting-shirt  for  whatever  they  might  think  valuable, 
and,  fortunately  for  me,  soon  found  my  flask,  filled 
with  strong  whisky. 

"  'A  terrific  grin  was  exhibited  on  their  murderous 
countenances,  while  my  heart  throbbed  with  joy  at 
the  anticipation  of  their  intoxication.  The  crew  be- 
gan immediately  to  beat  their  bellies  and  sing,  as 
they  passed  the  bottle  from  mouth  to  mouth.  How 
often  did  I  wish  the  flask  ten  times  its  size,  and  filled 
with  aqua  fords  f  I  observed  that  the  squaws  drank 
more  freely  than  the  warriors,  and  again  my  spirits 
were  about  to  be  depressed,  when  the  report  of  a 
gun  was  heard  at  a  distance.  The  Indians  all 
jumped  on  their  feet.  The  singing  and  drinking 
were  both  brought  to  a  stand,  and  I  saw,  with  in- 
expressible joy,  the  men  walk  off  to  some  distance 
and  talk  to  the  squaws.  I  knew  that  they  were 
consulting  about  me,  and  I  foresaw  that,  in  a  few 
moments,  the  warriors  would  go  to  discover  the  cause 
of  the  gun  having  been  fired  so  near  their  camp.  I 
expected  that  the  squaws  would  be  left  to  guard  me. 
Well,  sir,  it  was  just  so.  They  returned ;  the  men 
took  up  their  guns  and  walked  away.  The  squaws 
sat  down  again,  and,  in  less  than  five  minutes,  had 
my  bottle  up  to  their  dirty  mouths,  gurgling  down  their 
throats  the  remains  of  the  whisky. 

"  '  With  pleasure  did  I   see  them   becoming  more 


INCIDENTS    IN    THE    LIFE    OF    BOONE.  361 

and  more  drunk,  until  the  liquor  took  such  hold  of 
them  that  it  was  quite  impossible  for  these  women  to 
be  of  any  service.  They  tumbled  down,  rolled  about, 
and  began  to  snore,  when  I,  having  no  other  chance 
of  freeing  myself  from  the  cords  that  fastened  me, 
rolled  over  and  over  towards  the  fire,  and,  after  a 
short  time,  burned  them  asunder.  I  rose  on  my  feet, 
snatched  up  my  rifle,  and  for  once  in  my  life  spared 
that  of  Indians.  I  now  recollected  how  desirous  I 
once  or  twice  felt  to  lay  open  the  skulls  of  the 
wretches  with  my  tomahawk.  But  when  I  again 
thought  upon  killing  beings  unprepared,  and  unable 
to  defend  themselves,  it  looked  like  murder  without 
need,  and  I  gave  up  the  idea. 

"  '  But,  sir,  I  felt  determined  to  mark  the  spot,  and, 
walking  to  a  thrifty  ash  sapling,  I  cut  out  of  it  three 
large  chips,  and  ran  off.  I  soon  reached  the  river, 
soon  crossed  it,  and  threw  myself  into  the  canebrakes, 
imitating  the  tracks  of  an  Indian  with  my  feet,  so  that 
no  chance  might  be  left  for  those  from  whom  I  had 
escaped  to  overtake  me. 

" '  It  is  now  nearly  twenty  years  since  this  hap- 
pened, and  more  than  five  since  I  left  the  whites'  set- 
tlement, which  I  might  never  probably  have  visited 
again,  had  I  not  been  called  upon  as  a  witness  in  a 
law-suit  which  was  pending  in  Kentucky,  and  which, 
I  really  believe,  would  never  have  been  settled  had 
I  not  come  forward  and  established  the  beginning  of 
a  certain  boundary-line.  The  story  is  this,  sir : 

"<Mr.  moved  from  Old  Virginia  into  Ken- 
tucky, and,  having  a  large  tract  granted  to  him 


362  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

in  the  new  State,  laid  claim  to  a  certain  parcel  of 
land  adjoining  Green  River,  and,  as  chance  would 
have  it,  took  for  one  of  his  corners  the  very  ash 
tree  on  which  I  had  made  my  mark,  beginning,  as  it 
is  expressed  in  the  deed,  "At  an  ash  marked  by  three 
distinct  notches  of  the  tomahawk  of  a  white  man." 

"  '  The  tree  had  grown  much,  and  the  bark  had  cov- 
ered the  marks.  But,  somehow  or  other,  Mr. 

had  heard  from  some  one  all  that  I  have  already  said 
to  you,  and,  thinking  that  I  might  remember  the  spot 
alluded  to  in  the  deed,  but  which  was  no  longer  dis- 
coverable, wrote  for  me  to  come  and  try  at  least  to 
find  the  place  or  the  tree.  His  letter  mentioned  that 
all  my  expenses  should  be  paid  ;  and,  not  caring  much 
about  once  more  going  back  to  Kentucky,  I  started 

and  met  Mr. .  After  some  conversation,  the 

affair  with  the  Indians  came  to  my  recollection.  I 
considered  for  awhile,  and  began  to  think  that,  after 
all,  I  could  find  the  very  spot,  as  well  as  the  tree,  if 
it  were  yet  standing. 

<(<  Mr.  and  I  mounted  our  horses,  and  off  we 

went  to  the  Green  River  bottoms.  After  some  diffi- 
culty— for  you  must  be  aware,  sir,  that  great  changes 
have  taken  place  in  those  woods — I  found  at  last  the 
spot  where  I  had  crossed  the  river,  and,  waiting  for 
the  moon  to  rise,  made  for  the  course  in  which  I 
thought  the  ash-tree  grew.  On  approaching  the 
place,  I  felt  as  if  the  Indians  were  there  still,  and  as  if 

I  were  still  a  prisoner  among  them.  Mr. and  I 

camped  near  what  I  conceived  the  spot,  and  waited 
until  the  return  of  day. 


INCIDENTS    IN   THE    LIFE   OF    BOONE.  363 

"  '  At  the  rising  of  the  sun  I  was  on  foot,  and,  after 
a  good  deal  of  musing,  thought  that  an  ash-tree,  then 
in  sight,  must  be  the  very  one  on  which  I  had  made 
my  mark.  I.  felt  as  if  there  could  be  no  doubt  about 
it,  and  mentioned. my  thought  to  Mr.  . 

" ' "  Well,  Colonel  Boone,"  said  he,  "  if  you  think  so 
I  hope  that  it  may  prove  true,  but  we  must  have  some 
witnesses.  Do  you  stay  hereabouts,  and  I  will  go 
and  bring  some  of  the  settlers  whom  I  know." 

"  '  I  agreed.  Mr. trotted  off,  and  I,  to  pass 

the  time,  rambled  about  to  see  if  a  deer  was  still  liv- 
ing in  the  land.  But,  ah !  sir,  what  a  wonderful  dif- 
ference thirty  years  makes  in  a  country !  Why,  at 
the  time  when  I  was  caught  by  the  Indians,  you  would 
not  have  walked  out  in  any  direction  more  than  a 
mile  without  shooting  a  buck  or  a  bear.  There  were 
then  thousands  of  buffaloes  on  the  hills  in  Kentucky. 
The  land  looked  as  if  it  never  would  become  poor ; 
and  to  hunt  in  those  days  was  a  pleasure  indeed. 
But  when  I  was  left  to  myself  on  the  banks  of  Green 
River,  I  dare  say,  for  the  last  time  in  my  life,  a  few 
signs  only  of  the  deer  were  seen,  and,  as  to  a  deer 
itself,  I  saw  none. 

" '  Mr. returned,  accompanied  by  three  gentle- 
men. They  looked  upon  me  as  if  I  had  been  Wash- 
ington himself,  and  walked  to  the  ash-tree,  which  I 
now  called  my  own,  as  if  in  quest  of  a  long-lost 
treasure.  I  took  an. ax  from  one  of  them,  and  cut 
a  few  chips  off  the  bark.  Still  no  signs  were  to  be 
seen.  So  I  cut  again,  until  I  thought  it  time  to  be 
cautious,  and  I  scraped  and  worked  away  with  my 


364  THE   BACK-WOODSMEN. 

butcher-knife  until  I  did  come  to  where  my  toma- 
hawk had  left  an  impression  on  the  wood.  We  now 
went  regularly  to  work,  and  scraped  at  the  tree  with 
care,  until  three  hacks,  as  plain  as  any  three  notches 

ever  were,  could  be  seen.     Mr. and  the  other 

gentlemen  were  astonished,  and  I  must  allow  that  I 
was  as  much  surprised  as  pleased  myself.  I  made 
affidavit  of  this  remarkable  occurrence  in  presence  of 
these  gentlemen.  Mr.  -  —  gained  his  cause.  I  left 
Green  River  forever,  and  came  to  where  we  are 
now  ;  and,  sir,  I  wish  you  a  good  night.' ' 


ANECDOTES  OF  KENTON. 


qualities  which  made  the  sagacious  Boone 
1  the  most  famous  and  successful  of  the  early 
Western  pioneers  we  find  almost  entirely  lacking  in 
the  fiery  Kenton.  The  achievements  of  the  latter, 
regarded  in  the  light  of  merit,  were  indeed  as  re- 
markable as  those  of  the  former;  but,  regarded  in 
the  light  of  real  value  and  consequence,  they  were 
comparatively  insignificant.  Boone  was  identified 
with  actions  of  lasting  importance,  and  shaped  the 
course  of  events  rather  than  followed  the  current; 
whereas  Kenton  was  but  a  participator  in  move- 
ments originated  by  others.  Boone,  besides  being 
a  man  of  the  greatest  physical  powers  and  the 
most  unquestioned  intrepidity,  had  every  intellectual 
quality  of  the  successful  leader,  and,  under  different 
circumstances,  might  have  obtained  lasting  renown 
as  a  general.  Kenton  possessed  all  of  Boone's  cour- 
age, and  was  in  physical  resources  his  peer,  but  he 
lacked  his  high  mental  endowments;  and  his  part  in 
life  was  rather  that  of  the  brave  and  faithful  soldier 
than  that  of  the  wise  and  competent  leader.  An 
account  of  his  life,  therefore,  is  an  account  of  the 
remarkable  achievements  of  a  daring  man,  who  acts 

solely  in  the  capacity  of  a  private  adventurer.     His 

065) 


366  fHE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

performances,  during  his  life  among  the  Indians,  are 
so  truly  wonderful  that,  to  all  who  value  remarkable 
exhibitions  of  strength  and  daring  for  their  own 
sakes,  a  description  of  some  of*  the  more  striking 
incidents  in  his  life  can  not  but  be  highly  inter- 
esting. 

According  to  the  commonly  received  account, 
Simon  Kenton  commenced  his  adventurous  career 
at  the  youthful  age  of  sixteen.  The  immediate 
cause  of  his  adopting  the  life  of  the  woodsman  is 
said  to  have  been  the  terror  and  remorse  which 
he  felt  at  the  unfortunate  issue  of  a  personal  en- 
counter with  a  young  neighbor  named  Leitchmann, 
whom  he  punished  so  severely  that  he  left  him 
lying  apparently  lifeless.  This  incident  has  been 
so  often  related  that  very  few  of  our  readers  will 
care  to  hear  it  in  the  present  connection ;  but,  as 
it  strikingly  illustrates  the  character  of  young  Ken- 
ton,  it  can  not  fail  to  serve  a  useful  purpose.  It  is, 
in  brief,  as  follows  : 

At  the  distance  of  a  few  rods  from  the  house 
of  Kenton 's  father  lived  an  old  farmer  who  had  a 
daughter  as  coquettish  as  she  Was  attractive.  Her 
charms  won  for  her  a  great  many  suitors  among 
the  young  men  of  the  neighborhood,  but  her  natu- 
rally vain  and  frivolous  disposition  induced  her  to 
decline  a  number  of  advantageous  proposals  in 
order  that  she  might  retain  the  rest  of  her  ad- 
mirers. 

Among  those  who  paid  assiduous  court  to  this 
fair  coquette  was  young  Kenton.  As  he  was  at 


ANECDOTES   OF    KENTON.  367 

this  time  but  a  mere  boy,  being  not  over  fifteen, 
his  addresses  gave  the  young  lady  a  great  deal  of 
merriment;  and,  following  her  mischievous  dispo- 
sition, she  determined  to  put  the  ardor  of  her  suitor 
to  the  proof.  She  accordingly  affected  total  indif- 
ference to  all  but  Kenton  and  one  other — an  awk- 
ward, hulking,  farmer's  son,  about  twenty-one  years 
old,  named  Leitchmann.  Employing  all  of  her  art, 
she  managed  to  inspire  young  Kenton  with  a  feel- 
ing of  the  greatest  scorn  and  resentment  for  his 
rival,  who,  in  his  turn,  soon  came  to  regard  the 
youth  with  a  contempt  which  finally  induced  him  to 
offer  an  open  affront. 

Moved  to  wrath  and  fury  at  what  he  considered  the 
impudence  of  his  rival,  Kenton  determined  to  wreak 
vengeance.  He  accordingly  challenged  Leitchmann 
to  combat;  and,  the  challenge  being  accepted,  the 
rivals  repaired  to  a  lonely  spot  in  the  wood  to  adjust 
their  difficulties. 

Not  suspecting  Leitchmann  of  any  dishonorable 
intentions,  Kenton  went  unaccompanied.  But,  upon 
arriving  on  the  ground,  he  found  a  number  of  the 
farmer's  friends,  who  at  once  began  to  taunt  him  in 
a  most  insulting  manner.  He  permitted  their  re- 
marks to  pass  unregarded,  stripped  off  all  of  his 
clothing  but  his  pants,  and  announced  himself  pre- 
pared for  the  fight. 

Leitchman  stepped  promptly  forward,  and  Kenton 
at  once  dealt  him  a  furious  blow.  It  was  returned 
by  the  young  farmer  with  such  interest  that  Kenton 
drew  back  and  placed  himself  on  his  guard.  Leitch- 


305  THE   BACK-WOODSMEN. 

mann,  confident  that  his  superior  years  and  strength 
would  give  him  the  advantage,  made  a  desperate 
lunge  at  the  youth,  but  Kenton  succeeded  in  warding 
it  off.  Seeing  that  he  could  not  stand  against  his 
opponent  in  stubborn  battle,  Kenton  continued  to 
act  on  the  defensive  until  he  had  wearied  him;  and 
then,  at  once  changing  his  tactics,  he  called  forth  all 
of  his  vigor,  and,  by  a  series  of  quick  and  dexterous 
blows,  so  annoyed  the  clumsy  Dutchman  that  he  was 
glad  to  take  the  defensive.  The  chances  now  turned 
in  favor  of  Kenton ;  and  he  would  have  enjoyed  a 
speedy  and  complete  triumph  had  not  Leitchmann's 
friends  suddenly  interfered  and  declared  with  em- 
phasis that  the  contest  had  long  since  been  decided 
against  Kenton,  and  bade  the  youth  to  return  home 
and  never  again  attempt  to  encounter  a  man  who  was 
so  decidedly  his  superior.  At  this  arbitrary  act,  Ken- 
ton  stood  still,  and,  glaring  furiously  at  the  cowardly 

fellows,  denounced  them  as  d d  villains,  and  offered 

to  thrash  each  of  them  single-handed.  He  was  im- 
mediately seized,  and  the  men,  picking  up  a  number 
of  staves,  proceeded  to  belabor  him  vigorously.  He 
was  pounded  until  he  fairly  believed  that  every  bone 
in  his  body  was  broken,  and  was  shown  no  mercy  until 
he  was  rendered  too  feeble  to  make  the  slightest  move- 
ment by  way  of  resistance,  when  he  was  thrown  on 
the  ground  and  left  to  his  meditations. 

When  he  recovered  from  the  effects  of  this  punish- 
ment, Kenton  took  the  first  opportunity  of  informing 
his  rival  that  he  should  some  day  call  him  to  account 
for  his  conduct.  He  prudently  resolved,  however, 


ANECDOTES    OF    KENTON.  369 

that  he  would  not  again  encounter  his  foe  until,  by 
increased  strength,  he  should  be  enabled  to  do  so 
with  fair  prospects  of  success,  and  he  waited  patiently 
for  another  year.  On  his  sixteenth  birthday  he  rose 
early  in  the  morning,  walked  over  to  Leitchmann's 
house,  and,  calling  him,  told  him  briefly  that  he  de- 
sired a  second  encounter.  The  Dutchman  replied 
that  he  would  endeavor  to  accommodate  him;  and, 
without  more  ado,  the  rivals  repaired  together  to  the 
wood. 

In  the  combat  which  followed,  Kenton  fought  with 
all  the  dexterity  and  wariness  which  he  had  displayed 
at  first ;  but  Leitchmann,  knowing  the  methods  of  his 
opponent,  was  more  guarded  than  he  had  been.  In 
spite  of  all  of  Kenton's  activity,  he  was  thwarted  by 
Leitchmann,  and  finally,  after  a  severe  struggle,  was 
thrown  to  the  ground.  His  vindictive  foe  instantly 
sprang  upon  him,  and  kicking,  biting,  and  pound- 
ing him  with  the  most  malignant  fury,  cursed  him 
savagely,  and  heaped  upon  him  every  species  of 
abuse. 

While  he  was  enduring  this  terrible  punishment, 
Kenton,  casting  his  eye  toward  a  small  bush  which 
grew  a  few  feet  from  where  he  lay,  suddenly  con- 
ceived a  happy  design.  He  looked  up  at  his  oppo- 
nent, and  then  again  at  the  bush,  and,  satisfied  that 
he  could  by  a  strenuous  effort  accomplish  his  pur- 
pose, he  promptly  went  to  work  to  secure  what  he 
was  convinced  would  be  a  full  and  dreadful  revenge 
for  all  the  wrongs  which  he  had  suffered. 

Giving  a  heavy  groan,  he  turned  on  one  side,  in 


37O  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

the  direction  of  the  bush,  just  as  his  enemy,  after  a 
brief  pause,  had  commenced  to  kick  and  club  him 
with  added  violence.  Another  groan,  and  he  again 
rolled  over ;  and,  repeating  the  action  two  or  three 
times,  groaning  as  if  in  deep  agony,  he  finally  lay 
within  a  few  feet  of  the  bush,  with  Leitchmann  stand- 
ing over  him.  Watching  his  opportunity,  he  sud- 
denly sprang  from  the  ground,  and,  before  his  as- 
tonished foe  could  defend  himself,  pushed  him  over 
on  the  bush,  and  in  a  second  wound  his  hair, — which 
was  very  long,  and  therefore  well  adapted  to  the  pur- 
pose,— around  its  thick,  tangled  branches.  With  a 
cry  of  exultation,  Kenton  then  called  forth  all  of  his 
power,  and  gave  him  a  stunning  kick  in  the  head. 
Remembering  the  injuries  which  he  had  suffered  a 
year  before,  and  wrought  to  fury  by  the  cowardly 
conduct  of  Leitchmann  in  taking  advantage  of  him 
when  down,  he  was  but  ill-disposed  to  grant  mercy 
where  no  mercy  had  been  shown;  and  he  retaliated 
with  such  violence  that,  in  a  few  moments,  the  Dutch- 
man gave  a  deep  sigh,  sank  to  the  ground,  and,  after 
a  few  gasps,  closed  his  eyes  and  lay  quivering,  appar- 
ently in  the  agonies  of  death. 

The  malignity  and  wrath  which  had  held  uncon- 
trollable sway  in  the  breast  of  Kenton  now  gave 
way  to  remorse  and  terror.  He  found,  though  too 
late,  that  he  had  overstepped  the  bounds  not  only 
of  humanity,  but  of  vengeance  itself,  and  that,  in- 
stead of  merely  chastising  his  opponent,  he  had 
cruelly  murdered  him.  His  mind  was  agitated  by  a 
thousand  terrible  thoughts;  and,  fearing  that  he 


ANECDOTES    OF    KENTON.  37! 

would  be  immediately  apprehended,  tried  for  his 
act  and  hung,  he  cast  a  last  glance  at  his  appar- 
ently expiring  foe,  and  then  quickly  fled. 

He  directed  his  steps  due  west,  avoiding  the 
settlements  and  traveling  through  the  thickest  of 
the  wilderness.  He  soon  passed  the  part  of  the 
country  where  the  stations  were  most  numerous, 
and  arrived  in  the  neighborhood  of  Warm  Springs, 
in  the  western  part  of  Virginia.  At  this  place  he 
encountered  a  man  named  Johnson,  an  exile  from 
the  State  of  New  Jersey,  who  was  on  his  way  across 
the  mountains  ;  and,  joining  him,  he  left  the  borders 
of  civilization  and  pushed  into  the  unexplored  wil- 
derness. 

Kenton  started  on  his  journey  about  the  middle 
of  May,  1771.  Johnson  had  with  him  a  pack-horse, 
laden  with  a  few  necessaries  and  a  small  quantity 
of  flour.  He  also  had  two  rifles  and  a  store  of  am- 
munition. One  of  his  guns  he  gave  to  Kenton,  and 
thus  provided  with  abundant  means  of  subsistence 
and  defense,  the  adventurers  crossed  the  country  and 
arrived  at  a  settlement  on  the  Cheat  River,  a  tribu- 
tary of  the  Monongahela.  Parting  company  with 
his  friend  at  this  point,  Kenton  met  a  small  company 
which  had  been  organized  for  the  purpose  of  exploring 
the  West,  and,  joining  it,  he  descended  the  river  to  a 
place  called  Province's  Settlement,  where  he  fell  in 
with  two  young  adventurers  named  Yager  and 
Strader. 

Yager  had  been  taken  prisoner  by  the  Indians  in 
his  childhood,  had  been  for  many  years  a  captive 


372  THE  BACK-WOODSMEN. 

among  them,  and  had  traveled  with  them  in  their 
hunting  excursions  over  a  large  part  of  the  West. 
Seeing  that  Kenton  was  a  young  man  of  a  fiery  and 
adventurous  spirit,  anxious  to  face  and  brave  all  of  the 
dangers  of  frontier  life,  he  took  him  into  his  confi- 
dence, and  told  him  that  some  distance  to  the  south 
there  was  a  beautiful  country  which  the  Indians  called 
Kan-tuck-ee,  which  was  so  fertile  that  every  species 
of  vegetation  grew  spontaneous,  and  was  so  abun- 
dantly stocked  with  game  that  thousands  of  years 
could  not  exhaust  its  immense  resources.  He  said, 
moreover,  that  this  region  was  entirely  uninhabited, 
and  he  concluded  by  telling  Kenton  that  he  was  about 
to  return  to  it,  and  requested  him  to  bear  him  com- 
pany. 

Kenton  listened  to  Yager's  description  with  delight, 
and  his  eye  flashed  as  he  eagerly  closed  with  the  pro- 
posal. Preparations  were  at  once  made  for  the  jour- 
ney ;  a  boat  was  built,  a  supply  of  provisions  was 
laid  in,  and  Yager,  Kenton,  and  Strader  set  out  for 
the  land  of  promise. 

Yager's  recollections  of  the  beauty  of  the  hunting- 
grounds  over  which  he  had  wandered  with  the  In- 
dians while  a  youth,  proved  to  be  more  vivid  than 
his  knowledge  of  reaching  it  was  accurate.  Instead 
of  coming  to  it,  as  Yager  had  predicted,  in  the  course 
of  a  few  days,  they  traveled  for  many  weary  weeks 
without  seeing  any  signs  of  it,  and  they  finally  deter- 
mined to  abandon  their  search  and  devote  their  atten- 
tion henceforth  to  hunting  and  trapping. 

For  nearly  two  years    Kenton  and  his   comrades 


ANECDOTES    OF    KENTON.  373 

applied  themselves  to  this  congenial  and,  as  it 
proved,  profitable  occupation.  They  met  with  re- 
markable success,  exchanging  their  furs  with  the 
traders  at  Fort  Pitt  for  clothing  and  other  neces- 
saries. Thus  they  lived  in  the  full  enjoyment  of 
their  forest  life,  until  March,  1773,  when  a  sweeping 
calamity  deprived  Kenton  and  Yager  of  their  com- 
panion, obliged  them  to  abandon  their  pursuit,  and 
threw  them,  without  any  means  of  supporting  life, 
into  the  most  trying  and  distressful  circumstances. 

One  day,  while  reposing  in  their  tent  after  an  un- 
usually successful  hunt,  a  terrific  yell  was  heard,  and 
a  body  of  Indian  warriors,  about  fifty  strong,  ap- 
peared on  the  outside.  Immediately  fifteen  or 
twenty  shots  were  fired,  and  a  number  of  savages 
rushed  into  the  tent.  Kenton  and  Yager  sprang  to 
their  feet,  but  Strader  had  been  killed.  Kenton,  with 
remarkable  presence  of  mind,  drew  his  knife  and 
made  a  gash  in  the  canvas  opposite  the  door,  and 
then,  quickly  forcing  himself  through  the  opening 
thus  made,  he  bounded  through  the  throng  of  sav- 
ages that  encircled  the  tent  and  escaped.  Yager 
was  not  slow  to  follow,  and,  though  a  number  of  In- 
dians started  in  pursuit,  the  fugitives  were  too  fleet 
for  them,  and  soon  reached  a  place  of  safety. 

Owing  to  the  precipitation  with  which  they  fled, 
they  did  not  have  time  to  secure  either  their  rifles  or 
their  blankets  ;  and,  as  they  did  not  dare  to  return, 
they  were  left  without  means  of  providing  them- 
selves lor  the  future.  But  the  only  thing  which  re- 
mained was  to  accept  the  situation  and  go  forward, 


374  THE   BACK— WOODSMEN. 

and  they  accordingly  struck  out   boldly  through   the 
wilderness  for  the  Ohio. 

Their  sufferings  during  the  march  were  acute,  and, 
indeed,  almost  past  endurance.  They  are  thus  de- 
scribed by  one  of  the  most  interesting  of  our  West- 
ern narrative  writers : 

"  Directing  their  route  by  the  barks  of  trees,  they 
pressed  forward  in  a  straight  direction  for  the  Ohio, 
and,  during  the  first  two  days,  allayed  the  piercing 
pangs  of  hunger  by  chewing  such  roots  as  they  could 
find  on  their  way.  On  the  third  day  their  strength 
began  to  fail,  and  the  keen  appetite  which,  at  first, 
had  constantly  tortured  them,  was  succeeded  by 
a  nausea,  accompanied  with  a  dizziness  and  a  sink- 
ing of  the  heart,  bordering  on  despair.  On  the 
fourth  day,  they  often  threw  themselves  upon  the 
ground,  determined  to  await  the  approach  of  death; 
and  as  often  were  stimulated  by  the  instinctive  love 
of  life  to  arise  and  resume  their  journey.  On  the 
fifth,  they  were  completely  exhausted,  and  were  able 
only  to  crawl  at  intervals.  In  this  manner  they  trav- 
eled about  a  mile  during  the  day,  and  succeeded,  by 
sunset,  in  reaching  the  banks  of  the  Ohio.  Here,  to 
their  inexpressible  joy,  they  encountered  a  party  of 
traders,  from  whom  they  obtained  a  comfortable  sup- 
ply of  provisions." 

For  a  year  or  two  following  this  adventure  Ken- 
ton  was  connected  with  various  exploring  parties, 
and  acted  also  in  a  scouting  capacity  in  an  expedi- 
tion against  the  Indians  on  the  Kanawha.  Finally, 
in  1775,  still  bent  on  discovering  the  beautiful  coua- 


ANECDOTES    OF    KENTON.  375 

try  which  Yager  had  described  to  him,  he  induced 
two  friends  to  join  him  in  a  journey  which  he  pro- 
posed to  make  in  search  of  it. 

After  many  weeks  constant  travel,  during-  which 
they  explored  the  Ohio  to  some  distance  on  each 
side,  they  reached  the  neighborhood  of  May's  Lick, 
and  here,  for  the  first  time  in  the  course  of  their 
wanderings,  they  were  convinced  that  Yager's  glow- 
ing account  indeed  had  some  foundation  in  truth. 
The  country  was  very  beautiful,  and  the  soil  was 
surprisingly  fertile.  As  they  advanced  they  per- 
ceived signs  of  buffalo,  and  before  long,  to  their 
amazement  and  delight,  they  found  themselves  in 
the  midst  of  the  enchanted  region.  The  souls  of 
the  hunters  were  filled  with  rapture,  and  Kenton, 
leading  the  way,  pushed  forward  to  explore  the 
country. 

After  many  days  spent  partly  in  killing  buffalo, 
deer,  and  elk,  and  partly  in  examining  the  ground 
with  reference  to  the  selection  of  a  convenient  place 
for  erecting  a  settlement,  the  adventurers  chose  a 
location  in  the  vicinity  of  the  present  town  of  Wash- 
ington, and  proceeded  to  build  a  cabin.  Their  habi- 
tation was  completed  in  the  course  of  a  few  days, 
and  the  settlers  then  cleared  about  an  acre  of  ground 
in  the  center  of  a  large  canebrake  and  planted  it  with 
Indian  corn. 

For  some  time  Kenton  and  his  two  comrades 
enjoyed  a  life  of  unbroken  pleasure  and  success. 
Like  Boone  and  his  party  on  their  first  visit  to 
Kentucky  six  years  before,  they  hunted  and  trav- 


376  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

eled  without  any  incident  occurring  to  mar  their 
happiness,  and,  like  them,  they  finally  concluded  that 
they  were  the  sole  possessors  of  this  delightful  re- 
gion. In  common  with  their  predecessors,  however, 
fortune  at  length  deserted  them,  and  a  most  terrible 
circumstance  brought  them  to  a  realization  of  the 
dangers  of  their  situation. 

While  strolling  aimlessly  one  day  through  the 
country  along  the  banks  of  the  Licking  River,  Ken- 
ton,  who  was  some  distance  in  advance  of  his  com- 
rades, heard  a  low  rnoan  from  a  thicket  on  his  right, 
coming  apparently  from  a  man  in  deep  distress.  He 
halted  on  the  instant,  and  placed  himself  in  an  atti- 
tude of  defense,  fearing  that  some  deception  was 
being  practiced  upon  him,  for  he  knew  that  the  Indi- 
ans had  a  way  of  decoying  their  enemies  by  imitating 
sounds  calculated  to  excite  sympathy  or  awaken  cu- 
riosity. He  stood  on  his  guard,  and  in  a  moment 
the  moan  was  repeated.  It  was  followed  by  another, 
evidently  from  a  second  person,  and,  still  listening, 
Kenton  heard  the  voice  of  a  man  muttering,  in  per- 
fectly intelligible  English,  bitter  words  of  complaint. 
His  suspicions  were  now  quieted,  and  his  sympathies 
awakened ;  and,  advancing  softly,  he  forced  his  way 
through  the  bushes,  and  soon  came  to  the  spot  from 
which  the  sounds  proceeded. 

Stretched  on  the  ground  in  a  helpless  and,  to  all 
appearance,  dying  condition,  Kenton  saw  two.  white 
men,  stripped  almost  naked,  who  were  so  emaciated 
that  their  bodies  seemed  to  be  mere  skeletons,  kept 
together  by  a  thin  covering  of  skin.  After  looking 


ANECDOTES    OF    KENTON.  377 

at  them  for  a  moment,  Kenton  stepped  forward,  and 
kneeling  down,  spoke  to  the  one  whom  he  had  heard 
so  bitterly  lamenting  his  miserable  lot.  The  poor 
fellow  looked  up.  When  Kenton  assured  him  of  his 
friendship,  and  offered  to  relieve  his  necessities,  he 
immediately  brightened,  and,  in  an  eager  tone,  asked 
for  food.  Hearing  the  request  of  his  comrade,  the 
other  man  also  revived.  Kenton  drew  a  piece  of 
venison  from  a  pack  which  he  carried  on  his  shoulder, 
kindled  a  fire,  and  made  a  thick  broth,  which  he  gave 
to  the  starving  men.  When  they  were  able  to  rise 
from  the  ground,  he  and  his  two  companions  took 
their  arms,  and,  telling  them  to  be  of  good  cheer,  led 
them  off  in  the  direction  of  the  cabin.  The  journey 
was  very  tedious,  owing  to  the  exhausted  condition 
of  the  men ;  and,  as  they  were  a  considerable  dis- 
tance from  their  forest  home,  the  hunters  finally  con- 
cluded to  encamp  where  they  were  until  their  new 
friends  should  recover  their  strength. 

Kenton,  on  inquiring  of  them  how  they  came  to  be 
in  the  pitiable  condition  in  which  he  had  found  them, 
was  told  that  they  were  from  Pennsylvania,  and  had 
started  a  few  months  before  for  the  Ohio  settle- 
ments. During  the  voyage  down  the  river  their  boat 
had  capsized.  They  had  saved  themselves  by  swim- 
ming, but  their  guns,  blankets,  and  provisions  had 
gone  down  in  the  stream.  They  had  wandered  for 
many  days  through  the  wilderness,  and  had,  a  few 
hours  before  they  were  happily  rescued,  laid  down 
to  die. 

When  they  had    related  their  story,   Kenton  told 


378  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

them  that  he  had  built  a  station  some  miles  distant, 
and  invited  them  to  join  him  and  his  companions. 
One  of  the  men,  whose  name  was  Hendricks,  gladly 
accepted  the  invitation,  but  the  other  would  not  hear 
of  it,  and  signified  his  determination  to  return  to  the 
Monongahela,  saying  that  he  was  heartily  sick  of  the 
woods.  As  he  insisted  on  carrying  his  purpose  into 
execution,  Kenton  courteously  offered  to  bear  him 
company  as  far  as  the  banks  of  the  Ohio,  and,  in  the 
course  of  a  few  days,  accordingly  set  out  with  his 
two  comrades  and  the  stranger,  leaving  Hendricks 
alone  in  the  camp. 

The  journey  was  made ;  the  stranger  was  given  a 
gun,  blanket,  and  provisions,  and  sent  on  his  way,  and 
the  three  hunters  returned  with  all  speed.  The  camp 
was  reached,  but,  to  their  great  concern,  they  found 
it  deserted.  A  number  of  articles  which  had  be- 
longed to  Hendricks  were  strewed  on  the  ground, 
and,  on  examining  more  narrowly,  Kenton  found  that 
some  of  the  trees  which  surrounded  the  camp  were 
pierced  with  bullets.  There  had,  evidently,  been  an 
Indian  attack,  and  the  unfortunate  Hendricks  had 
doubtless  been  captured  and  carried  off. 

When  he  had  finished  his  observations,  Kenton 
stood  for  a  moment  brooding  in  the  deepest  melan- 
choly. Suddenly  one  of  his  companions  seized  him 
convulsively  by  the  arm,  and,  pointing  in  the  direction 
of  a  low  ravine  about  a  hundred  yards  distant, 
called  his  attention  to  a  thick  column  of  smoke, 
which  was  rising  apparently  from  a  fire  freshly  kin- 
dled. As  he  did  so  he  whispered  in  a  hoarse  voice, 


ANECDOTES    OF    KENTON.  379 

and  with  a  face  pale  as  death,  "Indians!"  and  then 
started  to  run  at  the  top  of  his  speed,  followed  by 
his  other  companion.  Kenton's  first  impulse  was  to 
call  to  them  to  return ;  but  he  quickly  changed  his  in- 
tention, for  he  knew  that  they  were  panic-stricken,  and 
that  a  single  word  would  bring  a  host  of  Indians 
after  him.  He  therefore  followed  his  comrades'  ex- 
ample, and  ran  away  as  swiftly  as  possible. 

After  they  had  gone  for  several  miles,  they  stopped 
to  breathe,  and  Kenton,  who  had  by  this  time  come 
up  to  them,  reproached  them  bitterly  for  their  pusil- 
lanimous conduct.  He  declared  that  such  cowardice 
was  in  the  extremest  degree  disgraceful,  and  that  if 
exhibitions  of  this  kind  were  to  be  repeated  in  future 
encounters  with  the  Indians,  he  would  take  the  first 
opportunity  of  breaking  off  from  companions  so  faith- 
less, and  henceforth  shift  for  himself. 

The  men  had  by  this  time  recovered  from  their 
fright,  and,  ashamed  to  be  thus  rebuked  by  a  mere 
youth,  after  a  moment's  hesitation  acknowledged  that 
their  conduct  had  indeed  been  highly  culpable,  and 
proposed  to  return  and  attack  the  enemy.  Kenton 
quickly  agreed  to  this  proposal,  shouldered  his  rifle, 
and  started  back;  but  before  he  had  gone  a  dozen 
steps,  he  was  called  by  one  of  his  companions,  who, 
telling  him  that  it  would  be  madness  to  attack  so 
greatly  superior  a  force  in  broad  daylight,  said  that  the 
wiser  course  would  be  to  wait  until  dusk.  Kenton, 
whose  impetuous  nature  would  endure  no  restraint, 
reluctantly  complied,  and  concealed  himself  with  his 
comrades,  awaiting  the  concerted  time. 


380  THE   BACK-WOODSMEN. 

When  the  first  shades  of  evening  appeared,  they 
emerged  from  their  hiding-place  and  started  to  re- 
trace their  steps.  They  approached  the  camp  cau- 
tiously, but  heard  no  sound,  and  saw  no  light  but  a 
dan,  uncertain  flicker,  as  of  a  fire  just  expiring.  With 
his  finger  on  the  trigger  of  his  rifle,  Kenton  stepped 
boldly  forward.  The  camp  was  deserted.  He  ap- 
proached the  fire,  and  here  a  sight  presented  itself 
which  chilled  every  vein  in  his  body  with  horror. 
Lying  in  the  ashes  of  the  fire,  he  saw  the  skull  and 
the  charred  remains  of  a  human  being!  Kenton's 
brave  heart  sank  within  him,  and,  resting  the  butt  of 
his  rifle  on  the  ground,  he  gazed  at  the  smouldering 
pile  with  feelings  of  apprehension  mingled  with  the 
profoundest  sorrow.  The  unfortunate  Hendricks  had 
evidently  been  burned  to  death  by  his  savage  captors, 
and  Kenton  bitterly  reproached  himself  for  having 
left  him  to  his  fate  at  a  time  when  rescue  might  have 
been,  if  not  comparatively  easy,  at  least  not  impossi- 
ble. Slowly,  and  with  the  utmost  dejection,  he  re- 
turned with  his  comrades  to  the  cabin  at  Washing- 
ton, and  once  more  prepared  to  live  the  quiet  and 
solitary  life  of  the  woodsman. 

The  settlers  did  not  airain  see  the  face  of  a  human 

o 

being  until  the  month  of  September,  when  they  acci- 
dentally met  a  white  man  who,  like  them,  was  wan- 
dering through  the  woods  on  a  hunting  excursion. 
From  this  man  they  learned,  for  the  first  time,  that 
the  interior  of  the  country  had  been  opened  to 
settlement;  and,  as  they  longed  to  be  once  more 
among  thjir  countrymen,  they  broke  up  their 


ANECDOTES   OF   KENTON.  381 

camp    and    accompanied    him,    at    his    request,    to 
Boonesboroucjh. 

O 

Kenton  was  now  about  twenty-one  years  old.  His 
long  sojourn  in  the  wilderness  had  inured  him  to  every 
hardship ;  and,  though  he  had  not  had  much  personal 
experience  among  the  Indians,  his  boldness  and  con- 
tempt for  every  thing  which  savored  of  fear,  at  once 
marked  him  as  a  man  who  would  be  eminently  useful 
in  Indian  warfare. 

For  two  or  three  years  subsequent  to  his  arrival  at 
Boonesborough,  Kenton  was  employed  constantly  as 
a  spy.  His  services  were  of  great  value,  and  he  soon 
came  to  be  a  universal  favorite.  By  Boone,  in  par- 
ticular, he  was  regarded  with  the  highest  esteem 
and  affection;  and  on  one  occasion,  as  we  have  seen, 
he  was  the  means  of  saving  the  life  of  this  famous 
pioneer. 

Celebrated  among  the  exploits  of  Kenton  is  his 
remarkable  adventure  while  scouting  with  an  expe- 
dition led  by  Boone  against  a  small  Indian  town  on 
Paint  Creek.  After  crossing  the  Ohio  he  went  ahead 
of  the  main  body  to  make  observations.  He  was  sud- 
denly startled  by  a  loud  laugh  from  a  thicket  into 
which  he  was  about  to  enter,  and,  concealing  him- 
self behind  a  tree,  he  soon  saw  two  Indians,  mounted 
on  a  small  pony,  coming  toward  him.  They  seemed 
to  be  in  a  most  agreeable  mood,  for  they  talked  and 
laughed  gleefully  as  they  rode  along.  Kenton  waited 
patiently.  In  a  moment  they  came  within  range.  He 
raised  his  gun,  aimed  deliberately,  and,  to  his  surprise, 
both  fell — one  being  killed  and  the  other  grievously 


382  THE   BACK-WOODSMEN. 

wounded;  and  thus  a  single  ball  was  made  to  do 
double  execution. 

Before  the  report  of  his  gun  had  died  away,  Ken- 
ton  bounded  forward,  with  his  scalping-knife  and 
tomahawk  drawn.  To  take  the  scalp  of  the  dead 
Indian  was  the  work  of  but  an  instant;  and  he  then 
turned  to  the  wounded  savage,  intending  to  dispatch 
him.  The  fellow  was  sorely  hurt ;  but,  seeing  Ken- 
ton's  purpose,  he  drew  his  tomahawk  from  his  belt 
and  hurled  it  at  him  with  all  the  violence  which  de- 
spair can  lend.  The  dangerous  missile  fortunately 
did  him  no  harm,  and  Kenton  quickly  overcame  his 
enemy's  resistance  and  sank  his  tomahawk  in  his 
head. 

While  in  the  act  of  scalping  the  second  Indian,  a 
noise  in  the  bushes  on  his  right  caused  Kenton  to 
quickly  leave  his  victim  and  place  himself  on  his 
guard.  Instantly  he  saw  two  savages,  about  twenty 
feet  distant,  taking  aim  at  him,  and  he  sprang  quickly 
to  one  side.  The  report  of  the  rifles  followed  imme- 
diately, and  the  balls  whistled  close  to  his  ears. 

Kenton  now  fled  to  the  shelter  of  the  wood,  but, 
being  hard-pressed,  was  obliged  to  stop  and  tree. 
He  commenced  to  reload  his  rifle,  but,  before  he 
had  finished,  he  saw,  to  his  despair,  about  a  dozen 
Indians  emerge  from  a  canebrake  and  make  directly 
for  the  place  where  he  had  concealed  himself. 

Escape  now  seemed  to  be  impossible,  and  Kenton 
was  preparing  to  sell  his  life  as  dearly  as  possible, 
when  he  heard  a  ringing  voice  in  the  rear,  which  he 
recognized  as  that  of  Boone,  shouting  to  him  to  keep 


ANECDOTES    OF    KENTON.  383 

his  stand.  Immediately  the  brave  old  pioneer  ap- 
peared at  the  head  of  his  men,  and,  with  a  shout 
of  defiance,  rushed  forward  to  attack  the  enemy. 
Halting,  he  gave  the  order  to  fire,  and  the  Indians 
were  given  so  warm  a  reception  that  they  quickly 
abandoned  their  purpose  and  fled  in  confusion.  Ken- 
ton  then  left  his  cover,  ran  forward  and  scalped  the 
prostrate  Indian. 

Soon  after  this  occurrence  Kenton  was  taken  pris- 
oner and  led  into  captivity.  The  story  of  his  life 
among  the  savages  is  perhaps  the  most  remarkable 
of  all  events  connected  with  Western  adventure. 
It  seems  almost  past  belief  that  one  man  could  have 
passed  through  an  experience  so  varied;  and  we 
must  search  history  in  vain  to  find  a  more  striking 
illustration  of  the  correctness  of  the  saying  that 
Fiction  can  relate  nothing  so  improbable  but  that 
Truth  can  parallel  it.  Kenton  was,  during  his  cap- 
tivity, forced  to  run  the  gauntlet  eight  times ;  he  was 
three  times  tied  to  the  stake,  and  he  was  repeatedly 
subjected  to  every  species  of  injury  and  torture  which 
a  fiendish  and  enraged  enemy  can  invent  or  an  un- 
happy prisoner  can  suffer.  "  For  three  weeks  he  was 
seesawing  between  life  and  death,  and  during  the 
whole  time  he  was  perfectly  passive.  No  wisdom 
or  foresight  or  exertion  could  have  saved  him.  Fort- 
une fought  his  battle  from  first  to  last,  and  seemed 
determined  to  permit  nothing  else  to  interfere."  The 
story  of  Kenton's  captivity  is  related,  in  substance, 
as  follows,  by  Mr.  William  A.  Crafts  in  his  "Pio- 
neers in  the  Settlement  of  America:" 
23 


384  THE   BACK-WOODSMEN. 

"Daring  in  his  excursions,  and  frequently  exposed 
to  danger,  Kenton  at  length  found  that  these  risks 
could  not  always  be  incurred  with  impunity.  Some 
horses  having  been  stolen  by  a  party  of  Indians, 
Kenton  and  a  few  companions  started  in  pursuit, 
determined  to  recover  them.  They  followed  the 
trail,  watching  for  an  opportunity  to  surprise  them ; 
but  before  such  a  chance  occurred  the  Indians 
reached  their  village.  Entering  the  village  with 
his  comrades  in  the  night,  while  its  dusky  inhabit- 
ants, unsuspicious  that  they  had  been  followed,  were 
all  asleep,  the  little  party  not  only  recovered  the 
stolen  horses,  but  took  several  belonging  to  the 
Indians,  and  started  back  for  Kentucky.  They 
made  all  haste  to  the  Ohio;  but  when  they  reached 
that  river  the  waters  were  high,  and  a  gale  made 
them  so  rough  that  there  was  danger  of  losing  the 
horses  if  they  attempted  to  cross,  and  this  was  a 
risk  of  bringing  their  bold  enterprise  to  an  end  not 
to  be  thought  of.  They  accordingly  waited  for  the 
wind  to  subside;  but  this  delay  was  as  fatal  as  they 
feared  the  attempt  to  cross  the  river  would  be ;  for 
the  Indians,  who  had  discovered  their  loss  with  the 
earliest  dawn,  had  followed,  and  now  overtook  them. 
Kenton,  less  cunning  or  less  fortunate  than  he  had 
hitherto  been,  was  captured,  while  his  companions 
succeeded  in  making  their  escape. 

"When  Boone  was  captured  he  had  never  done  any 
thing  while  fighting  the  savages  which  specially  ex- 
cited their  vindictiveness,  and  his  dignified  bearing, 
as  well  as  his  fame  as  a  skillful  hunter,  which  had 


ANECDOTES   OF    KENTON.  3$; 

spread  even  among  the  Indians,  secured  their  respect 
and  good-will.  But  Kenton  was  known  to  them  cither 
personally  or  as  one  of  a  class  of  daring  scouts  and 
raiders  who  were  their  most  active  enemies,  while  he 
was  now  caught  in  the  act  of  running  off  their  horses, 
and  they  were  disposed  to  show  him  neither  respect 
nor  mercy.  Telling  him  that  since  he  was  so  fond  of 
horses  he  should  ride  one  of  their  best  animals,  they 
bound  him  upon  a  half-broken,  unbridled  colt,  which 
was  then  turned  loose,  to  follow  the  party  as  it  chose. 
Unused  to  such  a  burden,  the  animal  reared  and 
dashed  about  in  the  wildest  manner,  to  the  great  de- 
light of  the  Indians  and  the  fearful  suffering  of  Ken- 
ton.  Rushing  unguided  through  thickets  and  under 
low-hanging  branches,  the  horse  seemed  to  manifest 
the  vicious  spirit  of  his  masters,  and  the  unfortunate 
prisoner  was  terribly  lacerated  and  bruised. 

"In  this  manner  he  was  carried  by  degrees  to  the 
famous  Indian  town  of  old  Chillicothe,  where  differ- 
ent methods  of  torture  common  among  most  of  the 
savage  tribes  were  resorted  to.  He  was  painted 
black  and  bound  to  a  stake  for  twenty-four  hours, 
subjected  to  insults  and  indignities  from  women  and 
children,  and  expecting  a  slow  and  cruel  death  at  the 
hands  of  the  men ;  then  compelled  to  run  the  gaunt- 
let between  two  lines  of  savages, — men,  women,  and 
children,  to  the  number  of  several  hundred, — who, 
with  switches,  clubs,  and  even  knives,  struck  at  him 
as  he  passed.  As  usual,  he  was  told  that  if  he 
reached  the  council-house  at  the  end  of  the  lines  he 
would  be  spared  further  punishment ;  but  when,  with 


388  THE   BACK-WOODSMEN. 

desperate  effort,  he  had  almost  reached  this  goal  of 
safety,  he  was  struck  down  by  a  club  in  the  hands  of  a 
warrior,  and  then  beaten  by  all  who  could  reach  him 
till  nearly  senseless.  This  torture  was  repeated,  with 
slight  variation,  as  he  was  carried  from  town  to  town 
and  exhibited,  previous  to  his  ultimate  doom  of  being 
burned  at  the  stake. 

"The  final  punishment  was  to  take  place  at  San- 
dusky,  and  Kenton  arrived  there  just  as  the  rene- 
gade Girty  returned  from  an  unsuccessful  expedi- 
tion against  the  frontier  settlements  of  Pennsylvania. 
Equal  to  the  most  malignant  savage,  Girty  struck 
the  weak  and  suffering  prisoner  to  the  ground,  and 
was  about  committing  further  violence,  when  Kenton 
called  him  by  his  name  and  demanded  his  protec- 
tion. For  once  the  infamous  wretch,  who  never 
before  or  after  was  known  to  show  mercy,  listened 
to  this  appeal.  Kenton,  indeed,  had  a  claim  upon 
him  which,  with  all  his  hatred  of  his,  own  race,  he 
could  not  but  recognize,  for  in  their  youth  he  had 
saved  Girty's  life-.  Remembering  this,  the  white 
savage  interceded  for  the  captive,  and  saved  him 
from  the  stake ;  and,  taking  him  to  his  cabin,  cared 
for  him  till  he  recovered  his  strength  Then,  how- 
ever, the  Indians  seemed  to  repent  of  their  leniency; 
and,  holding 'another  council,  they  again  condemned 
Kenton  to  be  burned.  But  fortunately  a  British 
agent  was  present,  and  succeeded  in  having  him 
transferred  to  himself  as  a  prisoner  of  war,  when 
he  was  carried  to  Detroit.  With  two  other  Amer- 
icans he  escaped  from  Detroit;  and,  running  the 


ANECDOTES    OF    KENTON.  389 

risk  of  recapture  and  certain  death,  he  again  trav- 
ersed the  Indian  country,  and  after  a  month's  travel 
through  the  wilderness  he  reached  Kentucky." 
.  The  following  interesting  anecdote  of  Kenton, 
which  has  rarely  been  in  print,  but  which  illustrates 
his  character  in  a  most  striking  and  pleasing  manner, 
is  taken  from  a  published  source: 

"Kenton  was  a  great  smoker,  the  most  important 
supplies,  next  to  his  weapons,  being  his  pipe,  pouch, 
and  tobacco.  Food  and  clothing  he  could  capture 
with  his  gun,  but  not  so  his  tobacco ;  and  hence  his 
zeal  to  lay  in  a  stock  of  his  luxury  before  setting  out 
on  any  expedition.  But  fire  to  light  his  pipe  was  not 
so  readily  obtainable,  it  being  no  little  trouble  to 
ignite  tobacco  by  flint  and  steel.  It  will  be  remem- 
bered that  friction  matches  were  not  in  common  use 
until  years  after  Kenton's  day. 

"At  one  time,  when  a  prisoner  in  the  hands  of  the 
British  at  Detroit,  he  was  particularly  admired  by 
English  officers  on  account  of  his  great  strength  and 
courage,  and  the  many  remarkable  exploits  for  which 
he  was  famous;  and  one  of  these  officers,  observing 
his  fondness  for  smoking  and  the  difficulty  in  light- 
ing a  pipe,  presented  Kenton  with  a  powerful  pocket 
burning-glass,  or  lens,  by  which  he  could  easily  focus 
the  rays  of  the  sun  on  the  tobacco  and  set  it  on  fire. 
This  thing  worked  charmingly,  and  for  many  years, 
wherever  he  went,  held  its  place  in  the  pouch  with 
his  pipe  and  tobacco. 

"It  is  an  incident  in  which  the  sun-glass  acted  a 
significant  part,  which  I  have  resolved  to  relate. 


39O  THE   BACK-WOODSMEN. 

•"A  summer  or  two  after  he  became  possessor  of 
the  glass,  he  was  again  taken  captive  by  a  party  of 
Indians,  who,  recognizing  him  at  once,  resolved  to 
torture  him  to  death  immediately,  so  as  to  rid  them- 
selves of  so  formidable  an  enemy  before  -he  should 
have  time  or  chance  to  escape.  A  stake  was  driven 
into  the  ground,  and  a  quantity  of  dry  leaves  and 
wood  piled  about  it,  and  then  the  chief  spoke,  in 
broken  English : 

"  '  White  chief  hungry;  eat  fire,  he  feel  better!' 

"  Kenton  replied  by  asking  the  privilege  of  smoking 
his  pipe  before  burning.  Now  the  Indians  of  certain 
tribes  were  always  singularly  generous  in  response 
to  such  requests,  especially  as  toward  pipe  and  to- 
bacco they  entertained  a  sort  of  religious  deference. 
Of  these  they  never  robbed  prisoners  nor  despoiled 
the  bodies  of  the  slain;  and  among  the  few  sacred 
objects  buried  with  the  dead,  pipes  were  always  in- 
cluded. It  was  on  account  of  this  superstitious  sanc- 
tity that  the  pipe  bore  such  an  important  part  in  the 
ceremonies  of  a  council,  and  was  always  smoked  as 
a  bond  of  strength  between  tribes  entering  into 
treaty  together.  They  never  denied  a  captive's  re- 
quest for  a  smoke,  and,  therefore,  Kenton  was  imme- 
diately gratified  by  a  grunt  of  assent.. 

"After  securing  his  feet  more  firmly  with  leathern 
thongs — for  they  knew  too  well  his  daring  and  prow- 
ess to  give  him  any  advantage — they  unbound  his 
hands  that  he  might  fill  and  light  his  pipe,  and  enjoy 
his  last  earthly  smoke.  Deliberately  he  proceeded 
to  crumble  up  the  tobacco  and  pack  it  into  the 


ANECDOTES    OF    KENTON.  39! 

bowl.  This  done,  he  placed  the  long  wooden  stem 
in  his  mouth,  and  seemed  ready  for  flint,  steel,  and 
tinder  with  which  to  light  the  luxury.  With  another 
grunt  a  red  man  passed  him  the  customary  imple- 
ments;, but,  to  his  great  surprise,  Kenton  refused 
them. 

"  Then,  with  a  dramatic  gesture,  he  extended  his 
right  hand  toward  the  sun  in  mid-heaven,  it  being 
about  noon,  and  holding  it  thus  with  the  burning- 
glass  clasped  between  the  thumb  and  forefinger,  he 
dexterously  brought  it  to  a  focus  on  the  contents  of 
his  pipe,  which  in  this  way  was  quickly  ignited,  and 
in  a  moment  he  was  puffing  clouds  of  smoke  from 
his  lips. 

"This  was  beyond  the  wits  of  the  savages.  The 
lens  being  of  glass,  and  transparent,  they  had  not 
observed  it,  and  evidently  believed  that  he  had  lighted 
his  pipe  by  simply  letting  the  sunlight  pass  through 
the  circle  formed  by  his  thumb  and  finger.  All  un- 
concerned he  puffed  away,  while  they  gathered  in  an 
excited  group  a  few  yards  distant,  and  discussed  the 
wonder  in  grunts  and  mutterings. 

"In  a  few  minutes  he  had  exhausted  the  contents 
of  the  pipe-bowl,  and  proceeded  to  refill  it.  At  this 
the  red  men  became  silent,  and  watched  him  as  if  he 
were  a  supernatural  being. 

"  While  crumbling  the  tobacco  the  glass  lay  unseen 
at  his  side ;  and  when  he  was  ready  to  light  up  again, 
with  another  still  more  dramatic  gesture,  he  seized 
the  lens  and  held  it  toward  the  sun,  and,  with  three 
or  four  cries  of  mysterious  and  startling  import  to 


392  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

the  Indians,  began  whiffing  the  bluish  smoke  as 
before. 

"  By  this  time  the  superstition  of  the  savages  was 
in  full  operation,  and  they  were  ripe  for  almost  any 
display  of  Kenton's  supposed  supernatural  power. 
Probably  no  people  on  the  whole  globe  were  ever 
more  sensitive  to  such  influences  than  the  native 
tribes  of  North  America.  What  they  could  not  com- 
prehend they  dreaded  with  craven  fear,  especially 
if  it  emanated  from  the  sun  or  clouds.  Seeing  his 
advantage,  Kenton  stretched  forth  his  hand  again, 
holding  the  glass  so  as  to  kindle  the  leaves  near  him. 
Then,  with  a  strange,  wild  cry,  he  swung  his  arms 
above  his  head,  adroitly  shifted  the  lens  to  his  left 
hand,  and  then  quickly  started  a  smudge  in  another 
place. 

"  Next,  struggling  to  his  feet,  tied  though  they  were, 
he  gave  an  almost  superhuman  leap — jumping  being 
Kenton's  special  forte — and  brought  himself  to  the 
heap  of  fagots  that  had  been  gathered  for  his  par- 
ticular entertainment,  and,  seating  himself  near  them, 
went  through  a  pantomime  more  weird  than  before, 
whereupon  a  flame  blazed  up  around  the  stake,  as  if 
the  victim  were  already  fastened  to  it,  and  ready  for 
torture. 

"  His  next  performance  was  to  beckon  to  the  chief 
to  come  and  unbind  his  ankles.  The  mystified  Indian 
hesitated,  but  finally  ventured  cautiously  forward,  as 
if  not  daring  to  disobey  such  a  man,  and  began  with 
nervous  fingers  to  fumble  at  the  deerskin  door. 

"While  thus  engaged,  Kenton  lifted  one  hand,  and 


ANECDOTES   OF    KENTON.  393 

instantly  a  lurid,  blistering  point  of  fire  fell  on  the 
red  man's  wrist.  With  an  'Ugh!'  he  jerked  his 
hand  away,  only  to  feel  the  burning  focus  on  his  head. 

"  This  was  too  much  for  even  an  Indian's  nerves, 
and,  with  a  cry  of  terror,  the  old  chief  sprang  away 
and  ran  to  the  nearest  tree,  behind  which  he  took 
shelter.  The  rest  of  the  savages  imitated  their 
leader,  leaping  behind  adjacent  trees ;  and  while,  with 
wondering  eyes,  they  stared  at  Kenton,  he  proceeded 
leisurely  to  unbind  his  own  ankles. 

"This  done,  he  waved  his  arms  toward  the  sun,  as 
if  giving  thanks  or  invoking  further  aid;  and  then 
went  to  a  powder-horn,  dropped  by  one  of  the  Indi- 
ans, and  withdrawing  the  stopple,  placed  it  as  he 
wanted  it,  fixed  his  sun-glass  so  that  the  focus  would 
enter  the  horn,  and,  stepping  toward  the  Indians, 
gesticulated  fiercely  at  them.  Instantly  there  was  a 
vivid  flash  and  a  roar,  the  powder-horn  disappeared, 
and  the  frightened  savages  fled  as  if  the  'Great 
Spirit'  had  suddenly  come  to  destroy  them. 

"At  this,  Kenton  considered  himself  master  of  the 
field,  and,  in  less  time  than  it  takes  to  tell  it,  flung 
upon  the  fire  whatever  the  Indians  had  left  behind 
them,  seized  his  own  property  that  they  had  taken 
from  him,  gun  and  garments,  and  made  haste  from 
the  scene. 

"  A  few  years  later,  when  peace  had  been  restored 
between  Americans  and  English,  and  the  Indians 
were  on  pacific  terms  with  the  '  Hunters  of  Ken- 
tucky,' Kenton  had  the  pleasure  of  meeting  at  a 
'  pow-wow '  with  some  of  the  warriors  who  had  com- 


394  THE   BACK-WOODSMEN. 

posed  the  party  so  signally  worsted  by  a  sun-glass. 
They  knew  him  at  once,  and  showed  an  ungoverna- 
ble fear  as  he  came  forward  to  shake  hands.  During 
the  '  pow-pow '  he  often  detected  them  gazing  at  him 
with  furtive  glances,  and,  as  he  still  had  the  lens,  he 
mischievously  seized  the  first  opportunity  to  call  clown 
fire  from  the  sun  to  light  his  pipe  again,  accompany- 
ing it  with  strange  gestures. 

"  Afterward  he  learned  that  they  believed  him  to 
be  in  league  with  the  'Great  Spirit,'  and  able,  if  he 
wished,  to  summon  the  sun  to  battle  for  him." 


II!  I 


,  •'   .    „...  it  i  1 


REMARKABLE  ESCAPES. 


AMONG  the  stories  of  adventure,  captivity,  and 
providential  deliverance  related  of  the  early  set- 
tlers, that  of  JOHN  SLOVER  is  justly  famed  in  the 
annals  of  the  West.  With  the  single  exception  of 
the  extraordinary  escape  of  Simon  Kenton,  that  of 
Slower  can  fairly  be  said  to  be  without  a  parallel. 

John  Slover  was  a  native  of  Virginia.  In  early 
youth  he  was  taken  prisoner  by  a  band  of  Indians 
and  carried  to  Sandusky,  where  he  was  raised,  and, 
when  he  grew  up,  adopted  by  his  captors.  In  1773, 
at  the  treaty  of  Pittsburgh,  he  was  seen  and  recog- 
nized by  some  of  his  relatives;  and  at  their  urgent 
solicitation  he  left  his  savage  associates  and  rejoined 
his  family,  with  whom  he  lived  in  peace  and  quiet 
for  some  years.  During  the  Revolution  he  served 
with  credit  in  two  campaigns,  and  after  finishing  his 
tour  of  duty  was  honorably  discharged. 

In  1782,  Slover  was  induced  to  join  an  expedition 
organized  under  the  leadership  of  the  gallant,  though 
unfortunate,  William  Crawford  to  proceed  against  the 
Wyandot  villages  on  the  Sandusky.  Although  he  at 
first  hesitated  to  take  part  in  an  enterprise  which  had 
as  its  object  the  annihilation  of  a  tribe  to  which  he 
had  formerly  belonged,  and  for  which  he  still  enter- 

(  39S I 


396  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

tained  many  friendly  feelings,  he  at  length  consented, 
since  he  regarded  his  duty  as  a  citizen  paramount  to 
any  personal  preferences  which  he  might  entertain. 

The  disastrous  issue  of  Crawford's  expedition  is 
told  in  brief  in  another  place.  *  The  whole  body 
of  whites  was  cut  to  pieces,  and  the  few  who  sur- 
vived were  forced  to  fly  for  their  lives. 

Among  the  fugitives  was  John  Slover,  who,  with 
five  companions,  attempted  to  rescue  himself  by  em- 
ploying the  bold  strategy  of  marching,  instead  of 
east  for  the  settlements,  south-west  in  the  direction 
of  the  Shawnee  villages,  and  then  following  an  east- 
erly course.  The  party  was  pursued  by  mounted 
Indians,  and  two  or  three  times  came  near  being 
surprised,  for  the  savages  rode  close  past  them ;  but 
during  the  first  two  days  they  fortunately  escaped 
discovery  by  hiding  themselves  in  the  long  and  thick 
prairie  grass. 

On  the  morning  of  the  third  day  of  their  flight  they 
were  fired  upon  by  a  band  of  Indians,  who,  it  appears, 
had  followed  their  trail,  and,  coming  up  to  them,  had 
taken  a  circuitous  route,  placed  themselves  in  an 
advantageous  position  in  front,  and  awaited  their  ap- 
pearance. Two  of  the  men  dropped  dead.  The 
other  four,  at  the  command  of  Slover,  quickly  took 
cover  behind  trees  and  prepared  to  defend  them- 
selves. But  they  had  only  two  rifles,  and  their 
chances  of  success  were  very  slight;  and  as  one  of 
the  Indians  called  to  them  in  a  loud  voice  request- 
ing them  not  to  fire,  since  he  would  see  to  it  that 


REMARKABLE    ESCAPES.  397 

they  were  treated  well,  they  lost  no  time  in  coming 
forward  and  surrendering  themselves.  One  of  their 
number,  however,  a  brave  young  fellow,  named  John 
Paul,  preferring  flight  to  captivity,  made  off,  suc- 
ceeded in  outrunning  his  pursuers,  and  reached 
Wheeling  in  safety. 

The  savages  had  no  sooner  secured  their  three 
captives  than  one  of  them,  approaching  Slover, 
scrutinized  him  closely,  and  then,  in  tones  of  min- 
gled astonishment  and  indignation,  called  him  by 
his  Indian  name.  Slover  recognized  the  warrior  as 
one  of  the  most  vindictive  of  the  Wyandot  braves ; 
and  apprehensive  that,  on  being  carried  to  the  In- 
dian villages,  he  would  immediately  be  put  to  the 
torture  for  taking  up  arms  against  his  former  breth- 
ren, he  commenced  to  cast  about  in  his  mind  some 
scheme  of  escape.  No  opportunity  offered,  how- 
ever, and  the  prisoners  were  taken  to  the  nearest 
Indian  town,  a  place  named  Waughcotomoco,  where 
Simon  Kenton,  four  years  before,  had  been  obliged 
to  run  the  gauntlet.  Here  the  warriors,  squaws,  and 
boys  came  out  in  a  body,  surrounded  the  prisoners, 
and  gave  them  the  greeting  customary  on  such  oc- 
casions, beating  them  with  switches  and  staves,  and 
offering  them  other  indignities.  Finally,  the  oldest 
of  the  men  was  seized,  and,  amidst  the  yells  of  the 
savages,  was  stripped  and  vigorously  rubbed  with 
coal  and  water  until  his  whole  body  was  perfectly 
black.  Terrified  at  this  harsh  treatment,  the  un- 
happy captive  commenced  to  cry  bitterly,  and  fre- 
quently asked  Slover  whether  they  intended  to  burn 


398  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

him.  Slover  was  ordered  by  the  Indians  not  to  an- 
swer; and  one  of  the  warriors,  seeing  the  prisoner's 
agitation,  came  forward  and  grasped  him  in  a  friendly 
way  around  the  waist,  as  if  to  caress  and  reassure 
him,  but,  suddenly  changing  his  demeanor,  tripped 
him  up  and  threw  him  with  great  force  to  the 
ground. 

The  man  again  set  up  a  piteous  cry,  and  a  second 
Indian  left  the  crowd  and  came  and  sat  down  by  him. 
In  a  soothing  manner  he  commenced  to  rub  and  pat 
his  belly,  uttering  honeyed  words  as  he  did  so.  He 
then  turned  him  over  and  gently  stroked  his  back. 
He  continued  his  caresses  for  some  time,  until  finally 
he  arose,  and,  with  all  the  force  which  he  could  com- 
mand, gave  the  poor  fellow  a  tremendous  kick  in  the 
pit  of  the  stomach.  This  act  was  followed  by  a  loud 
whoop  from  the  assembled  body  of  Indians,  a  num- 
ber of  whom  at  once  gathered  around  the  pros- 
trate prisoner  and  kicked  and  beat  him  unmercifully. 
When  they  had  abused  him  to  their  satisfaction,  the 
terrified  man  was  ordered  to  rise,  and  the  march  was 
resumed. 

At  a  town  several  miles  distant  a  second  halt  was 
made.  This  village,  as  it  proved,  was  the  destination 
of  the  party,  and  here  the  fate  of  the  prisoners  was 
to  be  decided.  On  their  approach  the  inhabitants 
trooped  out  to  meet  them,  and  two  long  rows  were 
at  once  formed,  extending  from  the  council-house  a 
distance  of  one  hundred  and  fifty  yards.  Eager  for 
their  prey,  the  savages  immediately  stripped  the 
three  unfortunate  men,  and,  with  a  loud  and  pro- 


REMARKABLE    ESCAPES.  399 

longed  whoop,  stood  in  readiness  to  receive  them 
as  they  passed  between  the  lines. 

The  poor  fellow  who  had  been  so  barbarously 
treated  at  Waughcotomoco  was  destined  to  once 
more  be  the  central  object  of  attraction.  His  body 
was  still  black,  and  he  naturally  excited  the  vindic- 
tiveness  of  the  Indians  in  the  village,  who,  supposing 
that  he  had  been  marked  in  this  way  on  account  of 
some  great  wrong  which  he  had  done  their  brethren, 
fell  upon  him  with  the  most  fiendish  fury.  He  was 
started  on  the  race  to  the  goal  about  twenty  yards 
ahead  of  his  companions,  and  ordered  to  run  for  his 
life.  A  terrible  yell  greeted  him  as  he  entered  the 
course  at  full  speed  and  bounded  forward  on  the  race 
of  life  and  death.  At  the  head  of  the  line  a  huge 
warrior,  who  had  stood  awaiting  him  with  every  mus- 
cle strained  and  his  club  held  firmly  aloft,  dealt  him 
a  furious  blow,  which,  striking  him  fairly,  across  the 
small  of  the  back,  caused  him  to  double  up  and  roll 
on  the  ground.  Before  his  enemies  had  time  to 
gather  around  him,  he  sprang  quickly  to  his  feet,  and, 
as  agile  as  a  deer,  continued  his  race.  A  few  feet 
further  on  a  large  Indian  aimed  a  blow  but  missed 
him.  Disappointed  and  wrathful,  the  savage  hurled 
his  club  at  the  retreating  prisoner,  which,  striking 
him  on  the  head,  felled  him  once  more  to  the  ground ; 
but  he  again  quickly  rose  and  made  a  shift  to  con- 
tinue his  flight. 

Nothing  could  equal  the  vindictiveness  and  cruelty 
of  the  Indians.  They  had  prepared  themselves  with 
the  most  formidable  weapons,  and  did  not  scruple  to 


466  THE   BACK-WOODSMEN. 

attack  him  with  all  the  violence  which  rage  can  lend 
to  malice.  His  eyes  were  blinded  by  quantities  of 
sand  which  the  Indians  dashed  into  his  face ;  his  flesh 
was  cruelly  gashed  and  hacked  by  knives  and  toma- 
hawks, and,  to  add  to  the  acuteness  of  his  sufferings, 
loads  of  powder  were  fired  into  his  body,  and  flam- 
ing brands  were  hurled  at  him  from  front  and  rear. 
-Nerved  by  terror  and  despair,  the  unhappy  captive 
exerted  himself  with  the  most  gigantic  strength,  and 
finally  succeeded,  though  bruised  and  bleeding  in 
every  limb,  in  reaching  the  council-house,  where  he 
had  been  told  he  would  be  safe  from  further  injury. 

Gaining  the  post,  he  grasped  it  with  both  hands ;  but 
the  Indians,  whose  fury  had  not  yet  been  appeased, 
instantly  broke  ranks  and  with  the  utmost  violence 
tore  him  away.  Meanwhile  Slover  and  his  other 
companion,  who  had  passed  almost  unregarded 
through  the  lines,  arrived  at  the  goal  in  safety. 
They  now  witnessed  a  sight  terrible  and  heart- 
rending in  the  extreme. 

The  savages  immediately  commenced  to  beat  their 
victim  with  heavy  war-clubs,  and  a  scene  of  the  ut- 
most confusion  followed.  The  prisoner  now  knew 
that  it  was  their  intention  to  pound  him  until  he  died, 
and  he  resisted  with  all  the  desperation  of  a  doomed 
man.  He  fought  and  struggled  savagely,  crying  bit- 
terly all  the  time,  and  striving  to  wrest  a  tomahawk 
from  his  enemies.  Every  effort  was  vain;  he  was 
beaten  for  upward  of  half  an  hour,  and  he  finally 
sank  to  the  ground,  where,  in  a  few  minutes,  he 
breathed  his  last.  The  Indians  took  his  scalp,  cut 


REMARKABLE    ESCAPES.  46! 

up  his  body,  and  stuck  his  head  and  quarters  upon 
poles  in  the  center  of  the  village. 

Slover  witnessed  the  fate  of  his  unfortunate  friend 
in  deep  silence.  When  he  saw  the  head  severed  from 
the  trunk  and  the  body  divided  by  the  barbarous 
savages,  a  cold  shudder  ran  through  his  frame,  and 
he  made  an  instinctive  movement,  as  if  meditating 
flight;  but  he  checked  himself,  for  he  knew  that  he 
was  in  the  heart  of  the  Wyandot  country,  and  that  any 
attempt  to  escape  would  be  attended  with  immense 
risks.  He  still  hoped  that  the  Indians,  after  hearing 
his  defense,  would  spare  him,  as  he  had  once  been 
their  brother.  Upon  what  feeble  grounds  this  forlorn 
hope  was  based,  we  shall  now  see. 

The  next  morning  the  savages  led  Slover's  sur- 
viving companion  to  a  neighboring  town,  for  what 
purpose  was  not  told.  He  was  probably  put  to 
death,  for  he  was  never  afterward  heard  of.  Slover 
remained  in  the  village.  He  was  not  kept  long  in 
suspense  with  regard  to  his  fate,  for  a  solemn  coun- 
cil immediately  convened,  and  he  was  summoned 
before  it  to  give  an  account  of  his  conduct. 

When  several  of  the  chiefs  had  spoken,  accusing 
the  captive  of  faithlessness,  and  favoring  the  adop- 
tion of  vigorous  measures,  Slover  was  asked  what 
he  had  to  say  by  way  of  defense.  He  arose  amid 
profound  silence,  and,  with  the  utmost  gravity  and 
composure,  proceeded  to  address  the  braves.  He 
spoke  the  Indian  tongue  with  fluency,  and,  as  he 
knew  several  of  the  judges  intimately,  he  was  con- 
fident that  his  cause  would  have  a  perfectly  impartial 
24 


4O2  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

hearing.  The  warriors  listened  to  him  attentively. 
His  harangue  produced  a  marked  impression,  and 
the  first  day  of  his  trial  closed  with  every  thing 
apparently  in  his  favor. 

On  the  second  day,  to  Slover's  great  concern, 
James  Girty,  the  brother  of  the  notorious  renegade, 
arrived  in  the  village.  He  was  immediately  called  to 
the  council-room,  and  asked  to  give  his  opinion  in 
the  case.  In  the  most  emphatic  manner  Girty  pro- 
nounced against  the  prisoner.  He  favored  execu- 
tion, and  offered  to  conduct  the  prisoner  to  a 
neighboring  village,  where,  he  said,  preparations 
had  been  made  for  burning  him  at  the  stake. 

Girty  was  violently  abusive.  His  argument  was 
impassioned,  and  the  ground  which  he  took  was 
uncompromising  in  the  extreme.  Slover  feared  that 
his  fate  was  sealed,  but,  still  hopeful  and  resolute, 
he  rose,  and,  with  all  the  rough  eloquence  which 
he  had  at  his  command,  replied.  Many  of  the 
warriors  favored  the  imposition  of  the  death-sen- 
tence ;  but  the  majority  were  undecided,  and  it  was 
determined  to  wait  for  a  few  days  before  passing 
judgment. 

Finally  a  large  council  of  the  Shawnee,  Delaware, 
Wyandot,  Chippewa  and  Mingo  nations  was  held 
in  the  village,  and  two  messengers  were  sent  to 
bring  Slover  before  the  assembled  chiefs.  On  his 
first  arrival  in  the  town,  Slover  had  been  given  in 
charge  to  an  old  squaw,  who  took  him  into  her  hut 
and  treated  him  with  the  most  considerate  kindness. 
When  the  two  warriors  came  to  the  cabin  to  bring 


KEMARKAllLE    ESCAPES.  403 

Slover  before  the  council,  this  old  woman,  fearing 
that  no  good  was  in  store  for  him,  quickly  hid  him 
under  a  bear-skin,  and  then  told  the  emissaries  that 
she  had  sent  him  out  on  an  errand,  but  that  he 
would  be  back  presently.  She  inquired  with  great 
solicitude  regarding  the  intentions  of  the  chiefs. 
She  was  told  that  the  probable  sentence  would  be 
death.  At  this  information  she  became  greatly  en- 
raged, seized  a  rifle,  and  said  that  she  would  shoot 
the  first  man  who  came  to  deprive  her  of  her  charge. 
The  messengers  departed,  and  the  old  squaw  drew 
Slover  from  his  hiding-place. 

An  earnest  conversation  now  followed  between 
the  woman  and  the  unfortunate  captive.  She  told 
him  that  he  certainly  would  be  doomed  to  die,  and, 
saying  that  his  only  escape  was  in  immediate  flight, 
bade  him  disguise  himself  as  an  Indian  and  leave 
the  village.  This  counsel  Slover  would  by  no  means 
listen  to,  for  he  was  apprehensive  that  his  enemies, 
on  discovering  his  absence,  would  tomahawk  the  old 
woman  as  being  privy  to  his  escape ;  and  he  was  too 
brave  and  generous  to  rescue  himself  at  the  expense 
of  one  so  defenseless.  She  urged  him  to  avail  him- 
self of  the  opportunity;  but  he  steadily  refused,  and 
remained  in  the  cabin  awaiting  the  messengers  of 
death. 

Presently  a  number  of  loud  halloos  were  heard, 
and  in  a  few  moments  Slover  saw  through  the  cracks 
in  the  wall  a  large  party  of  Indians,  headed  by 
James  Girty,  rushing  toward  the  hut.  On  reaching 
the  door,  Girty  savagely  told  the  old  woman,  who 


404  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

had  gone  out  to  meet  him,  to  deliver  up  the 
prisoner.  •  She  commenced  to  cry  in  a  piteous 
manner,  but  Girty  did  not  stand  on  ceremony,  and, 
with  a  rude  oath,  pushed  her  from  him  and  entered. 
Slover  was  instantly  seized  and  carried  to  the  center 
of  the  village,  where  he  was  stripped  stark  naked 
and  tarred  from  head  to  foot.  His  hands  were  then 
bound  behind  him  so  that  it  was  almost  impossible 
for  him  to  move  them,  and  he  was  borne  off  to  a 
town  several  miles  further  on.  All  the  inhabitants 
thronged  to  meet  him,  supposing  that  to  them  had 
fallen  the  rare  good  fortune  of  preparing  and  wit- 
nessing his  torture.  But  Girty  told  them  that  the 
most  that  he  could  permit,  was  that  they  should 
amuse  themselves  with  the  prisoner  for  a  short  time. 
The  gauntlet  lines  were  accordingly  formed,  and 
the  Indians  devoted  about  an  hour  to  clubbing  and 
tormenting  the  wretched  victim. 

At  a  small  village  about  two  miles  from  the  place, 
where  Slover  was  obliged  to  run  the  gauntlet,  the 
party  made  a  final  halt.  Here  the  prisoner's  heart 
sunk  within  him  when  he  saw  that  preparations  had 
been  made  to  burn  him.  A  stout  hickory  pole  had 
been  sunk  in  the  ground,  and  a  quantity  of  fagots 
had  been  collected  and  piled  in  a  heap.  Girty  turned 
to  Slover  and  asked  him  if  he  knew  what  these 
preparations  meant,  telling  him  at  the  same  time 
to  cheer  up,  as  there  would  be  fine  sport  in  the 
evening. 

After  giving  a  few  orders,  Girty  seized  the 
prisoner  and  rudely  dragged  him  to  the  stake.  The 


REMARKABLE    ESCAPES.  405 

Indians  gathered  in  a  circle,  and  as  Girty — assisted 
by  two  or  three  stalwart  warriors — bound  Slover's 
hands  firmly  behind  him,  and  then  lashed  him 
securely  to  the  stake,  they  set  up  a  prolonged  and 
unearthly  yell,  and  commenced  to  perform  their 
dances. 

The  prisoner  now  resigned  himself  to  fate,  and, 
calm  and  resolute,  watched  the  preparations  which 
were  being  made,  with  a  fortitude  truly  heroic.  The 
fagots  were  carried  and  heaped  around  him  as  high 
as  his  hips,  and  the  savages  then  commenced  to  tor- 
ment him  with  threats  and  blows.  To  inflame  the 
passions  of  the  men,  an  orator  mounted  a  -stand  at 
the  door  of  the  council-room  and  commenced  to 
address  the  assembly,  exclaiming  vehemently  and 
gesticulating  wildly  as  he  did  so.  He  wrought  so 
powerfully  upjn  the  feelings  of  the  multitude  that 
they  gr**.w  in:  oatient  of  delay,  and  finally  one  of  the 
squaws  was  directed  to  go  and  bring  a  brand  from 
a  fire,  in  order  that  the  execution  might  take  place 
forthwith. 

The  flaming  torch  was  procured,  and  a  light  was 
immediately  applied  to  the  heap  of  timber.  A  blaze 
at  once  sprang  up;  the  fire  was  communicated  to  the 
whole  of  the  pile,  and  before  long  the  flames  were 
circling  around  the  unfortunate  victim. 

During  the  afternoon  the  wind  had  been  quite 
high,  but  there  had  been  few  clouds.  At  the  critical 
moment,  however,  the  sky  suddenly  became  dark- 
ened, the  wind  subsided,  and,  to  the  dismay  of  the 
Indians  and  the  inexpressible  astonishment  of  Slover, 


406  THE  BACK-WOODSMEN. 

a  copious  shower  of  rain  fell.  The  blaze,  which  was 
mounting  high  and  becoming  severely  hot,  was  im- 
mediately extinguished.  The  rain  continued  to  fall, 
and  soon  came  down  in  torrents,  so  that  the  Indians 
were  forced  to  take  shelter,  and  Slover  was  drenched 
from  head  to  foot. 

In  about  two  hours  the  rain  ceased.  Execution 
was,  of  course,  out  of  the  question  that  evening;  but 
the  savages  were  determined  not  to  lose  their  sport 
altogether,  and  accordingly  surrounded  the  captive, 
and  entertained  themselves  by  yelling,  performing 
their  dances,  and  striking  and  kicking  the  victim 
until  about  eleven  o'clock,  when  they  withdrew  to 
rest.  Before  leaving,  however,  they  unbound  Slover, 
and  led  him  into  a  block-house,  where  they  pin- 
ioned his  arms  tightly,  and  then  fastened  one  end 
of  a  stout  thong  around  his  neck,  tying  the  other  to 
a  beam.  After  binding  him  in  this  manner,  they  left 
him  under  a  strong  guard,  and  bade  him  good  night, 
first  exhorting  him,  however,  to  take  a  good  sleep,  as 
'he  would  have  to  "  eat  fire  in  the  morning." 

The  guard,  which  had  been  set  to  watch  over 
Slover,  consisted  of  three  burly  Indians.  Two  of 
them  were  young  fellows,  who  had  been  with  the 
party  which  captured  him.  The  third  was  an  old 
and  very  shrewd  savage,  who  evidently  was  deter- 
mined to  keep  on  the  watch  during  the  whole  of 
the  night,  for  he  told  his  companions  to  lie  down 
and  leave  the  prisoner  to  him. 

Slover  was  too  anxious  to  sleep;  and  the  old  mn.n, 
seeing  that  he  was  wakeful,  lighted  his  pipe  and 


REMARKABLE    ESCAPES.  407 

commenced  to  talk  to  him.  He  had  a  great  deal  to 
say  in  praise  of  the  two  Girtys.  His  admiration  for 
Simon  was  without  bounds.  James,  he  said,  was. as 
true  an  Indian,  and  had  as  good  a  heart  as  his 
brother;  but,  he  added,  he  was  not  so  valuable  a 
man  on  the  war-path.  "  He  say  all  the  time  dam, 
dam,"  said  the  old  savage;  "Simon  say  dam,  too," 
he  said,  "but,"  he  added  emphatically,  "Simon  say 
dam — Simon  act  dam."  When  the  Indian  had  ex- 
hausted the  subject  of  the  Girtys,  he  commenced  to 
talk  to  Slover  about  the  pleasure  which  he  and  his 
companions  expected  to  have  in  witnessing  the 
torture  on  the  following  day,  and,  as  he  was  ex- 
ceedingly garrulous,  he  entertained  his  listener  by 
a  number  of  stories  of  the  sufferings  of  prisoners 
whom  he  had  seen  burned  at  the  stake. 

During  this  time,  Slover  had  been  revolving  in  his 
mind  the  chances  which  he  had  of  making  an  escape. 
He  cursed  the  talkative  old  Indian  a  thousand  times 
in  his  heart,  and  anxiously  waited  for  him  to  drop 
asleep.  Finally  he  determined  to  feign  extreme 
wearisomeness,  and,  at  the  most  interesting  portion 
of  one  of  the  old  man's  stories,  rolled  over  on  one 
side  and  commenced  to  snore.  The  Indian,  not 
relishing  this  inattention  in  the  prisoner,  poked  him 
with  a  stick,  and  told  him  to  wake  up. 

"Story  mighty  good,"  he  said;  "much  fun." 

"Shut  up,  d n  you,"  replied  Slover  in  an  exas- 
perated tone;  "I  "am  tired,  and  want  to  sleep." 

The  Indian  did  not  heed  this  emphatic  remon- 
strance, and  continued  to  talk.  Slover  turned  on  his 


408  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

side,  and  soon  fell,  to  all  seeming,  into  a  profound 
sleep.  At  length  the  old  man  stopped  talking,  put 
out  -his  pipe,  yawned,  and  laid  himself  down  by  the 
fire.  In  a  moment  he  arose,  and,  going  to  the  pris- 
oner, carefully  examined  the  fastenings  of  the  cords 
and  tightened  the  knots.  Satisfied  that  every  thing 
was  secure,  he  then  drew  his  blanket  around  him, 
placed  himself  on  the  ground  as  before,  and  was 
.soon  sound  asleep. 

Slover  now  set  about  to  free  his  wrists  from  the 
thongs  which  bound  them.  This  was  an  undertaking 
of  extreme  difficulty,  for  they  had  been  drawn  so  tight 
that  they  cut  deep  into  his  flesh;  and  not  only  could 
he  not  move  his  hands,  but  he  could  scarcely  work 
his  fingers.  By  a  desperate  effort,  however,  he  suc- 
ceeded in  slipping  the  cords  forward,  and  finally  found 
his  hands  at  perfect  liberty,  although  the  skin  was 
almost  entirely  rubbed  off  in  the  attempt.  With 
trembling  haste  Slover  next  seized  the  leathern 
thong  which  was  fastened  around  his  neck,  and 
endeavored  to  disengage  it.  It  was  of  buffalo  hide, 
well-seasoned,  and  was  as  thick  as  his  thumb,  and 
hard  as  iron.  He  could  not  loosen  the  knots,  and  to 
gnaw  it  in  two  was,  on  account  of  its  thickness  and 
hardness,  impossible.  Whfle  Slover  was  desperate- 
ly striving  to  free  himself,  the  old  Indian,  disturbed 
probably  by  the  loudness  of  his  breathing — for  the 
excitement  under  which  he  labored  was  so  great 
that  he  drew  his  breath  in  short,  thick  pants — 
suddenly  awoke. 

Slover   immediately  placed  his   hands  behind   his 


REMARKABLE   ESCAPES  409 

back,  and,  affecting  restlessness,  turned  over  so  that 
he  faced  the  Indian.  The  old  savage  arose,  yawned 
heavily,  poked  the  fire,  gave  a  look  at  the  prisoner, 
and  then  stretched  himself  on  the  ground.  Slover 
thanked  his  good  fortune,  and  again  went  to  work 
with  a  will.  He  jerked  the  rope,  which  bound  his 
neck,  vigorously,  and  at  length,  to  his  great  joy,  it 
came  untied. 

To  make  his  way  from  the  room  and  out  of  the 
village  was  now  an  easy  task.  Slover  knew  that  he 
had  not  a  moment  to  spare,  for  day  was  just  break- 
ing, and  in  less  than  half  an  hour  his  absence  would 
be  discovered.  He  ran  with  all  speed  for  a  corn-field, 
intending  to  conceal  himself.  While  on  his  way  he 
came  very  near  stumbling  over  a  squaw,  who  was 
sleeping  with  two  children  on  the  ground ;  but, 
happily,  discovering  them  just  in  time,  he  ran  on, 
soon  passed  the  corn-field,  and  reached  an  orchard 
beyond.  Fortune  seemed  to  have  taken  him  under 
her  especial  protection,  for  here  he  found  a  number  of 
horses,  and,  quickly  going  up  to  one,  he  fastened  a 
halter  which  he  had  made  from  the  cord,  which 
bound  his  arms,  around  its  neck,  mounted  its  back, 
and,  urging  it  to  its  utmost  speed,  was  soon  flying 
across  the  country  in  the  direction  of  home. 

The  animal  proved  to  possess  great  power  and 
spirit,  and,  although  but  a  young  colt,  bore  its  rider 
most  handsomely,  never  once  showing  a  disposition 
to  stop.  The  sun  was  high  in  the  heavens  before 
Slover  checked  his  speed,  and  then  he  stopped  only 
to  afford  his  horse  time  to  breathe,  preparatory  to 


4-IO  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

plunging  into  the  Scioto  River  which  obstructed  his 
path.  The  colt  swam  bravely  and  was  nearly  across, 
when  he  commenced  to  fail.  Slover,  keenly  sensitive 
to  every  sound,  thought  that  he  heard  a  cry  as  of 
pursuers  in  his  rear,  and,  nerved  to  desperation,  he 
struck  his  noble  animal  savagely,  and  by  a  hard 
effort  urged  it  up  the  bank.  It  was  now  ten  o'clock 
in  the  morning,  and  Slover  had  gone  a  distance  of 
not  less  than  fifty  miles.  He  dismounted  and  allowed 
his  horse  about  five  minutes'  rest.  The  cry  which  he 
had  heard  was  repeated,  and,  straining  hi*  eyes, 
Slover  could  distinguish,  far  behind,  half  a  dozen 
horsemen  moving  across  the  plain  from  the  direction 
in  which  he  had  come.  He  now  knew  that  he  was 
hotly  pursued,  and  he  sprang  lightly  upon  his  horse, 
and  continued  his  mad  flight. 

The  frantic  speed  at  which  Slover  galloped  his 
animal  was  enough  to  wear  out  nerves  and  sinews 
of  iron,  and,  as  he  advanced,  the  poor  beast  began 
to  show  signs  of  failing.  At  length,  about  three 
o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  after  running  a  distance  of 
more  than  -seventy  miles,  the  horse  stumbled  and 
fell  headlong.  Slover  instantly  sprang  from  its  back 
and  continued  his  flight  on  foot  until  dusk,  when  he 
halted  for  a  moment.  Far  behind  him  he  heard  a 
prolonged  halloo,  and  he  reluctantly  came  to  the 
conclusion  that  he  was  still  pursued.  Fortune  again 
declared  in  his  favor.  It  presently  grew  dark,  and, 
as  the  moon  did  not  rise  until  late,  he  knew  that  his 
pursuers  would  be  obliged  to  halt  until  they  could 
again  discover  his  trail.  He  ran  until  ten  o'clock, 


REMARKABLE    ESCAPES.  4!  I 

and  then,  utterly  overcome  with  fatigue,  he  sank  to 
the  ground.  He  was  seized  with  a  violent  fit,  and 
lay  for  two  hours  quivering  in  every  limb.  His 
resolution  was  not,  however,  to  be  quelled,  and  as 
soon  as  the  moon  rose  he  sprang  to  his  feet  and 
rushed  forward  as  if  just  starting  out  on  a  journey. 
He  made  all  speed  until  morning,  and  then,  chang- 
ing his  course,  he  went  more  slowly,  carefully  cov- 
ering his  trail  as  he  did  so. 

For  two  days  longer  Slover  continued  his  weary 
journey.  On  the  evening  of  the  third  day  of  his 
flight  he  reached  the  Muskingum  River,  which  he 
swam  at  Old  Comer's  Town.  His  flesh, — he  was 
entirely  naked, — was  blistered  and  peeled  from  head 
to  toe,  and  he  was  nearly  dead  from  exhaustion. 
Strange  as  it  may  seem,  however,  he  suffered  com- 
paratively little  from  hunger,  and  indeed  had  scarcely 
any  inclination  to  eat.  The  only  food  which  he  tasted 
during  his  journey  was  a  few  raspberries  and  two 
crawfishes,  which  he  caught  in  the  Stillwater  River 
and  devoured  raw. 

Finally,  four  days  after  his  escape,  Slover  reached 
the  Ohio  River  opposite  Wheeling.  He  saw  a  man 
standing  on  an  island  in  the  middle  of  the  stream, 
and,  calling  to  him,  he  told  him  his  name  and  the 
circumstances  in  which  he  was  placed.  The  fellow 
soon  came  to  his  rescue  and  rowed  him  across,  and 
Slover  thus  returned  to  his  friends  after  an  ex- 
perience which,  for  thrilling  adventure,  daring,  and 
hardship,  has  rarely  been  paralleled. 


412  THE  BACK-WOODSMEN. 

THE  following  narrative  of  the  captivity  and  won- 
derful escape  of  the  two  JOHNSON  boys,  JOHN  and 
HENRY,  aged  respectively  thirteen  and  eleven  years, 
is  taken  from  Pritts's  "Border  Life:" 

They  lived  at  a  station  on  the  west  side  of  the 
Ohio  River,  near  Indian  Short  Creek,  and,  being  at 
some  distance  from  the  house,  engaged  in  the  sport- 
ive amusements  of  youth,  they  became  fatigued,  and 
seated  themselves  on  an  old  log  for  the  purpose  of 
resting.  They  presently  observed  two  men  coming 
toward  them,  whom  they  believed  to  be  white  men 
from  the  station,  until  they  approached  so  close  as  to 
leave  no  prospect  of  escape  by  flight,  when,  to  their 
great  grief,  they  saw  that  two  Indians  were  beside 
them.  They  were  made  prisoners  and  taken  about 
four  miles,  when,  after  partaking  of  some  roasted 
meat  and  parched  corn  given  them  by  their  captors, 
they  arranged  for  the  night  by  being  placed  between 
the  two  Indians  and  each  encircled  in  the  arms  of  the 
one  next  him. 

Henry,  the  younger  of  the  brothers,  had  grieved 
much  at  the  idea  of  being  carried  off  by  the  Indians, 
and  during  his  short  but  sorrowful  journey  across  the 
hill  had  wept  immoderately.  John  had  in  vain  en- 
deavored to  comfort  him  with  the  hope  that  they 
should  be  enabled  to  elude  the  savages  and  return 
to  the  hearth  of  their  parents  and  brethren.  He  re- 
fused to  be  comforted.  The  ugly  red  man,-  with  his 
tomahawk  and  scalping-knife,  which  had  often  been 
called  in  to  quiet  the  cries  of  his  infancy,  was  now 
actually  before  him;  and  every  scene  of  torture  and 


REMARKABLE   ESCAPES.  413 

of  torment  which  had  been  depicted  by  narration  to 
his  youthful  eye  was  now  present  to  his  terrified  im- 
agination, heightened  by  the  thought  that  they  were 
about  to  be  re-enacted  on  himself.  In  anticipation  of 
this  horrid  doom,  for  some  time  he  wept  in  bitterness 
and  affliction.  But  when  the  fire  was  kindled  at  night, 
the  supper  prepared  and  offered  to  him,  all  idea  of 
his  future  fate  was  merged  in  their  present  kindness ; 
and  Henry  soon  sank  to  sleep,  though  inclosed  in 
horrid  hug  by  savage  arms. 

It  was  different  with  John.  He  felt  the  reality  of 
their  situation ;  he  was  alive  to  the  anguish  which  he 
knew  would  agitate  the  bosom  of  his  mother,  and  he 
thought  over  the  means  of  allaying  it  so  intensely  that 
sleep  was  banished  from  his  eyes.  Finding  the  others 
all  locked  in  deep  repose,  he  disengaged  himself  from 
the  embrace  of  the  savage  at  his  side  and  walked  to 
the  fire.  To  test  the  soundness  of  their  sleep,  he  re- 
kindled the  dying  blaze  and  moved  freely  about  it. 
All  remained  still  and  motionless, — no  suppressed 
breathing  betrayed  a  feigned  repose.  He  gently 
twitched  the  sleeping  Henry,  and,  whispering  softly 
in  his  ear,  bade  him  get  up.  Henry  obeyed,  and  they 
both  stood  by  the  fire. 

"I  think,"  said  John,  "we  had  better  go  home 
now." 

"Oh!"  replied  Henry,  ''they  will  follow  and  catch 
us." 

"Never  fear  that,"  rejoined  John,  "we'll  kill  them 
before  we  go." 

The  idea  was  for  some   time  opposed  by  Henry, 


414  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

but  when  he  beheld  the  savages  so  soundly  asleep, 
and  listened  to  his  brother's  plan  of  executing  his 
wish,  he  finally  consented  to  act  the  part  prescribed 
him. 

The  only  gun  which  the  Indians  had  was  resting 
against  a  tree,  at  the  foot  of  which  lay  their*  toma- 
hawks. John  placed  it  on  a  log,  with  the  muzzle 
near  to  the  head  of  one  of  the  savages,  and,  leaving 
Henry  with  his  finger  on  the  trigger,  ready  to  pull 
on  the  signal  being  given,  he  repaired  to  his  own  sta- 
tion. Holding  in  his  hand  one  of  their  tomahawks, 
he  stood  astride  of  the  other  Indian,  and,  as  he  raised 
his  arm  to  deal  death  to  the  sleeping  savage,  Henry 
fired,  and,  shooting  off  the  lower  part  of  the  Indian's 
jaw,  called  to  his  brother,  "Lay  on;  for  I've  done  for 
this  one"  seized  up  the  gun  and  ran  off.  The  first 
blow  of  the  tomahawk  took  effect  on  the  back  of  the 
neck  and  was  not  fatal.  The  Indian  attempted  to 
spring  up,  but  John  repeated  his  strokes  with  such 
force  and  so  quickly  that  he  soon  brought  him  again 
to  the  ground,  and  leaving  him  dead  proceeded  on 
after  his  brother. 

They  presently  came  to  a  path  which  they  recol- 
lected to  have  traveled  the  preceding  evening,  and, 
keeping  along  it,  arrived  at  the  station  awhile  before 
day.  The  inhabitants  were,  however,  all  up,  and  in 
much  uneasiness  for  the  fate  of  the  boys;  and  when 
they  came  near,  and  heard  a  well-known  voice  ex- 
claim, in  accents  of  deep  distress,  "Poor  little  fel- 
lows! they  are  either  killed  or  taken  prisoners"  John 
called  aloud,  "No,  mother,  we  are  here  again." 


REMARKABLE  ESCAPES,  415 

When  the  tale  of  their  captivity  and  the  means  by 
which  they  had  effected  their  deliverance  was  told, 
they  did  not  obtain  full  credence.  Piqued  at  the 
doubt  expressed  by  some,  John  observed,  "You  had 
better  go  and  see." 

"But  can  you  again  find  the  spot,"  said  one? 

"Yes,"  replied  he,  "I  hung  up  my  hat  at  the  turn- 
ing-out place,  and  can  soon  show  you  the  spot." 

Accompanied  by  several  of  the  men,  John  returned 
to  the  theater  of  his  daring  exploits,  and  the  truth 
of  his  statement  received  ample  confirmation.  The 
savage  who  had  been  tomahawked  was  lying  dead 
by  the  fire ;  the  other  had  crawled  some  distance,  but 
was  tracked  by  his  blood  until  found,  when  it  was 
agreed  to  leave  him,  "as  he  must  die  at  any  rate." 


THE  following  account  of  the  escape  of  four  white 
youths  is  from  the  "Pioneers  in  the  Settlement  of 
America:" 

In  1785,  a  Colonel  Pope,  who  lived  near  Louisville, 
employed  a  private  teacher  to  instruct  his  own  chil- 
dren and  those  of  some  neighbors,  among  whom 
were  two  sons  of  Colonel  Linn,  who  had  been  killed 
several  years  before  this  date. 

One  holiday  in  February  the  two  LINNS,  with  three 
other  boys,  went  out  on  a  hunting  excursion;  for, 
though  none  of  them  were  above  the  age  of  thirteen 
or  fourteen,  they  were  accustomed  to  the  use  of  fire- 
arms, and  were  somewhat  skilled  in  hunting  the 
smaller  game.  Ambitious  to  enjoy  all  the  delights 


41 6  THE   BACK-WOODSMEN. 

and  freedoms  of  a  hunter's  life,  they  constructed  a 
slight  shelter,  built  a  fire,  and  encamped  for  the 
night  near  some  ponds  which  were  frequented  by- 
swans  and  ducks.  A  slight  snow  during  the  night 
did  not  disturb  their  slumbers,  and  in  the  morning 
they  were  awake  early,  and  eager  to  resume  their 
sport;  but,  as  they  were  setting  out  for  the  ponds, 
they  found  themselves  surrounded  by  a  party  of 
Indians,  who  had  been  attracted  by  their  camp-fire 
and  lain  near  them  all  night.  The  elder  Linn  and 
one  of  his  companions  started  to  run ;  but  they  were 
overtaken,  and  Linn,  who  was  rather  stout  and 
clumsy,  was  called  by  the  Indians  "The  Little  Fat 
Bear,"  while  the  other,  who  was  an  agile  and  swift 
runner,  was  named  "The  Buck-Elk." 

The  Indians  soon  moved  away  with  their  young 
captives,  and,  crossing  the  Ohio  in  canoes,  pursued 
their  journey  toward  Northern  Indiana.  The  boys, 
knowing  they  must  make  the  best  of  their  ill-luck, 
and  not  being  ill-treated,  marched  on  without  a  mur- 
mur, and  perhaps  not  altogether  unpleasantly  ex- 
cited by  their  adventure.  Their  patient  endurance, 
and  the  interest  which  they  manifested  in  the  inci- 
dents of  the  journey,  won  the  good-will  of  the  In- 
dians, who  promised  themselves  the  satisfaction  of 
making  braves  of  these  young  heroes.  Arriving  at 
the  village  of  their  captors,  they  received,  as  usual, 
the  taunts  and  abuse  of  the  women  and  children. 
These  they  bore  as  long  as  they  could;  but  when  the 
Indian  boys  resorted  to  blows  their  Kentucky  blood 
was  aroused,  and  the  younger  Linn,  being  assailed 


MASSACRE  OF  GENERAL  OUSTER  AND  COMMAND  BY  THE  SIOUX  INDIANS. 


REMARKABLE   ESCAPES.  419 

by  a  boy  larger  than  himself,  gave  him  a  left-handed 
blow  which  knocked  him  down,  to  the  great  delight 
of  the  older  savages.  A  general  attack  by  the  young 
Indians  followed;  but  the  white  boys  were  braver 
than  their  adversaries,  and,  standing  together,  they 
displayed  such  pluck  against  great  odds  that  their 
captors  interfered  and  protected  them  from  further 
annoyance. 

The  qualities  thus  displayed  by  the  boys  were  such 
as  to  commend  them  to  the  savages,  and  they  at  once 
became  favorites,  and  were  adopted  into  the  families 
of  their  captors.  One  of  them  fell  to  the  lot  of  an 
Indian  belonging  to  a  distant  town,  whither  he  went 
with  his  master,  and  was  never  seen  again  by  his 
comrades.  The  others  remained  in  the  same  village ; 
and,  as  there  was  nothing  else  to  do,  with  the  readi- 
ness of  youth  to  adapt  itself  to  circumstances,  they 
entered  with  alacrity  into  the  sports  of  the  Indians, 
and  became  apparently  so  well  pleased  with  their 
free  life  that  their  captors  ceased  to  be  suspicious  of 
their  desire  to  escape,  and  they  were  allowed  to  go 
about  at  will. 

Although  the  boys  entered  freely  into  the  sports 
of  the  Indian  youth,  and  apparently  were  not  dis- 
satisfied with  their  position,  they  were  ever  on  the 
\vatch  for  an  opportunity  to  escape.  The  spring  and 
summer  passed,  however,  without  any  chance  to  make 
the  attempt ;  but  in  the  autumn  the  Indian  braves  set 
out  in  separate  parties  for  their  annual  hunt,  leaving 
only  the  old  men  and  the  women  and  children  at 
home.  With  the  increased  possibility  of  escape,  the 

SCO 


42O  THE   BACK-WOODSMEN. 

boys  became  more  anxious  than  ever  to  return  to 
their  home ;  but,  as  the  days  passed,  and  the  desired 
opportunity  did  not  occur,  they  became  more  des- 
perate, and  at  last  took  advantage  of  a  chance  which, 
at  an  earlier  period,  they  would  not  have  dared  to  try. 
They  went  out  one  day  accompanied  by  an  aged  In- 
dian man  and  a  squaw,  and  encamped  at  a  distance 
from  the  village  for  the  purpose  of  hunting  and  fish- 
ing-. This  seemed  to  them  the  last  chance  of  escape, 
and  they  resolved  to  improve  it.  But  a  difficulty  pre- 
sented itself  at  the  outset:  Should  they  attempt  to 
run  away  and  leave  the  old  warrior  and  squaw,  they 
would  be  sure  to  be  pursued  by  all  the  motley  crew 
of  the  village,  and  probably  captured.  After  consul- 
tation, therefore,  they  determined  that,  in  order  to 
see  their  home  and  friends  again,  it  was  necessary 
to  kill  their  Indian  companions,  and,  watching  their 
opportunity,  they  carried  their  resolution  into  effect. 
That  young  boys  like  these  and  the  Johnsons  could 
so  deliberately  resort  to  blood-shed  may  seem  strange 
to  those  reared  in  the  safety  of  civilized  communities. 
But  it  must  be  remembered  that  they  knew  the  In- 
dians as  deadly  enemies  of  their  race,  who  did  not 
hesitate  to  massacre  helpless  women  and  children  of 
the  whites,  and  who  were  then  wearing  as  trophies 
the  scalps  of  their  kindred.  The  two  Linns  had  lost 
their  father  by  the  hands  of  the  savages ;  and  the 
atrocities  and  vindictive  cruelty  practiced  by  these 
enemies  were  familiar  tales.  When,  reared  among 
such  associations  and  influences,  their  only  hope  of 
seeing  their,  home  again  lay  in  the  death  of  these 


REMARKABLE    ESCAPES.  421 

two  beings  of  a  race  hated  by  all  the  pioneers,  it  is 
not  strange  that  even  their  young  hands  should  per- 
form the  deadly  deed. 

Taking  their  guns,  they  hastened  away  from  their 
silenced  foes  and  turned  their  steps  eagerly  toward 
their  home,  knowing  that  they  must  travel  southward, 
and  being  already  accustomed  to  trace  their  course 
not  only  by  the  sun  and  moon  but  by  the  hunters' 
sylvan  lore.  For  three  weeks  they  traveled  through 
the  forest,  often  at  night,  lying  concealed  the  greater 
part  of  the  day  when  they  suspected  danger,  living 
on  nuts  and  berries  and  occasionally  small  game,  and 
practicing  the  cunning  which  they  had  learned  from 
hunters'  stories  and  their  experience  with  the  Indians. 
At  last  they  reached  the  Ohio,  and,  coming  opposite 
Louisville,  they  fired  their  guns  to  attract  attention ; 
but  the  people  there,  supposing  it  might  be  a  device 
of  the  Indians,  did  not  venture  to  cross.  The  young 
fugitives,  failing  to  obtain  assistance,  went  several 
miles  up  the  bank  of  the  river  in  search  of  some 
canoe  or  other  means  of  crossing.  Finding  none, 
with  great  labor  they  constructed  a  raft,  on  which 
three  of  them  embarked;  while  the  elder  .Linn,  who 
was  an  expert  swimmer,  took  to  the  water  and 
pushed  the  unwieldy  craft,  before  him,  the  other 
three  assisting  with  poles  as  paddles.  In  this  way 
they  passed  slowly  across  the  river,  at  the  same  time 
borne  more  rapidly  down  the  stream  toward  Louis- 
ville, and  were  discovered  by  the  people  there,  who 
hastened  to  their  assistance.  It  was  none  too  soon  ; 
for  just  then  a  band  of  Indians  appeared  on  the 


422  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

opposite  shore  and  commenced  firing  at  them ;  and 
but  for  help  they  might  again  have  been  captured. 
Young  Linn  was  nearly  exhausted  by  his  efforts  and 
his  long  exposure  in  the  chilly  water,  for  it  was  then 
November,  but  the  prompt  care  which  he  received 
soon  restored  him  to  his  usual  robust  health.  It  is 
needless  to  say  with  what  joy  the  young  fugitives 
were  welcomed  back  by  their  friends,  who  had  long 
supposed  that  they  had  been  murdered  by  the  In- 
dians. Their  comrade  who  had  been  separated  from 
them  never  returned,  and  it  was  afterward  ascer- 
tained that  he  grew  to  manhood  among  the  Indians, 
married  the  sister  of  a  noted  chief,  and  became  so 
attached  to  the  life  of  a  savage  that  he  had  no  de- 
sire to  return  to  civilized  society. 


WILLIAM  KENNAN,  a  young  man  of  about  eighteen 
years  of  age,  attached  to  a  corps  of  rangers  which 
accompanied  the  unfortunate  expedition  of  General 
Arthur  St.  Clair  against  the  Indians  of  the  North- 
west, in  the  fall  of  1791,  had  a  most  miraculous  es- 
cape. He  was  known  by  his  companions  in  arms  as 
a  youth  of  extraordinary  power  and  activity,  and, 
during  the  march  of  the  army  to  the  fatal  battle- 
ground, gave  several  proofs  of  his  physical  capacities 
which  amazed  the  men  and  officers  beyond  measure. 

In  order  that  timely  warning  might  be  given  of 
the  approach  of  the  enemy  in  case  of  attack,  the 
corps  to  which  Kennan  belonged  was  posted,  the 
night  before  the  baitlc,  some  distance  in  advance  of 


REMARKABLE    ESCAPES.  423 

the  main  body.  Young  Kennan  was  placed  on  guard 
a  little  after  midnight,  with  instructions  to  keep  a 
strict  watch  until  morning.  In  the  exercise  of  his 
duty  as  a  sentinel,  Kennan  paced  backward  and  for- 
ward over  a  beat  twenty  or  thirty  yards  in  length. 
He  saw  no  sign  of  an  enemy  until  about  daybreak, 
when,  just  as  he  reached  the  farthest  point  of  his 
beat,  he  discovered  a  party  of  about  thirty  Indians 
stealing  cautiously  toward  him.  Kennan  immediately 
raised  the  alarm  and  beat  a  hasty  retreat.  His  com- 
panions were  on  the  alert,  and  advanced  in  regular 
order  to  confront  the  savages.  Not  doubting  that 
the  Indians  were  but  a  score  or  two  in  number,  and 
that  the  corps  would  therefore  be  fully  prepared  to 
encounter  them,  Kennan  did  not  wait  for  the  arrival 
of  his  comrades,  but  suddenly  wheeled,  presented  his 
rifle,  fired  at  the  foremost  of  the  enemy,  and  then  fell 
on  his  face  in  the  tall  grass.  He  commenced  to  re- 
load, thinking  that  his  comrades  would  be  up  in  a 
moment,  and  charge  and  rout  the  Indians ;  but  to  his 
surprise  and  alarm,  he  suddenly  heard  a  voice  which 
he  recognized  as  that  of  the  captain  of  the  rangers, 
cry  in  a  loud  warning  tone:  "Run,  Kennan,  or  you 
are  a  dead  man!"  Rising  on  the  instant,  he  discov- 
ered, to  his  dismay,  that  his  friends  had  fled,  and  that, 
instead  of  a  few  Indians,  an  overwhelming  mass  were 
in  furious  pursuit.  He  had,  however,  very  little  time 
to  make  observations,  for  a  number  of  warriors  were 
immediately  upon  him. 

Heading    for  a  ford   in   the   creek  which   ran  be- 
tween the  rangers  and  the  main  body,  Kennan  used 


424  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

his  utmost  exertions  to  distance  his  pursuers.  About 
a  dozen  fleet  warriors  threw  away  their  guns  and 
dashed  after  him,  yelling  at  the  height  of  their  voices. 
Before  he  had  gone  far,  Kennan  discovered  that  his 
purpose  of  rejoining  the  army  was  likely  to  be  foiled, 
for  a  band  of  savages  that  had  followed  the  rangers, 
returning  from  the  pursuit,  quickly  intercepted  him 
and  obliged  him  to  alter  his  course.  By  the  greatest 
effort,  the  fugitive  soon  succeeded  in  leaving  all  of 
his  enemies,  with  the  single  exception  of  a  brave  and 
active  young  chief  named  Messhawa,  behind  him ; 
and  a  most  animated  contest  now  followed  between 
pursuer  and  pursued. 

Kennan  was  about  eighteen  feet  in  the  lead,  and, 
in  the  circuitous  route  which  he  was  obliged  to  take, 
he  had  a  distance  of  nearly  four  hundred  yards  to  go 
before  he  could  again  reach  a  fordable  point  of  the 
creek.  Both  men  used  their  greatest  endeavors,  but 
Kennan  could  not  gain  on  his  adversary,  nor  could 
Messhawa  lessen  the  distance  which  intervened. 

As  he  ran,  Kennan  occasionally  looked  back  to 
ascertain  what  progress  his  enemy  was  making.  He 
saw  him  bending  every  muscle,  and,  what  greatly 
heightened  his  anxiety,  he  perceived  that  he  held  his 
tomahawk  aloft,  preparing  to  throw  it.  The  emer- 
gency was  critical ;  and  Kennan,  knowing  that  he 
might  at  any  moment  be  felled  to  the  ground  by  a 
blow  from  the  weapon,  promptly  resolved  to  turn  and 
end  the  contest  by  a  hand-to-hand  encounter. 

He  accordingly  slackened  his  speed  and  felt  for  his 
tomahawk.  His  consternation  and  despair  may  be 


REMARKABLE    ESCAPES.  425 

conceived  when  it  is  stated  that  he  searched  for  his 
weapon  in  vain ;  it  had  slipped  from  the  sheath  while 
he  lay  prostrate  in  the  thick,  rank  grass.  The  young 
chief  was  now  so  close  that  he  was  ready  to  pounce 
upon  his  victim;  but  Kennan,  nerved  by  despair  to 
renewed  exertion,  sprang  forward  with  such  swiftness 
that  he  immediately  gained  ground.  A  new  danger, 
however,  soon  presented  itself.  By  keeping  his  eye 
almost  constantly  on  his  enemy,  he  had  neglected 
to  watch  the  course  which  he  was  taking,  and,  before 
he  had  time  to  shape  it  aright,  he  found  that  he  was 
approaching  the  high  bank  of  the  creek,  near  which 
lay  directly  in  his  path  a  large  tree,  covered  with 
brush  to  the  height  of  about  ten  feet.  Messhawa, 
on  seeing  that  his  enemy  could  not  possibly  avoid 
rushing  into  the  trap,  uttered  a  cry  of  triumph  and 
commenced  to  swing  his  tomahawk  rapidly,  while  he 
redoubled  his  efforts.  Kennan  saw  at  a  glance  that 
he  had  but  one  alternative:  he  must  either  stop  short 
and  face  the  Indian,  or  he  must,  by  a  powerful  effort, 
clear  the  obstacle.  He  was  wholly  defenseless,  and, 
vain  as  the  attempt  seemed,  he  determined  to  save 
himself  by  leaping  over  the  tree.  He  accordingly 
gathered  all  his  energies,  made  a  sudden  rush  for- 
ward, and,  with  one  prodigious  bound,  sprang  over 
limbs  and  brush,  and  landed  safe  on  the  other  side. 
The  success  of  his  attempt  astonished  himself,  and  it 
amazed  the  Indian  beyond  all  power  of  expression, 
for,  on  looking  back,  he  saw  Messhawa  standing  still, 
looking  after  him  in  open-mouthed  wonder.  Kennan 
instantly  jumped  into  the  creek,  made  his  way  to  the 


426  THE   BACK-WOODSMEN. 

opposite  bank,  and  rejoined  the  rangers,  who  re- 
ceived him  with  enthusiasm,  and  heard  the  story  of 
his  remarkable  escape  with  expressions  of  amazement 
bordering  on  incredulity. 

One  would  suppose  that  Kennan,  after  this  as- 
tonishing achievement,  would  have  been  content  to 
pass  the  remainder  of  the  day  in  the  ordinary  occu- 
pations of  the  soldier,  without  seeking  new  opportu- 
nities of  placing  his  life  in  jeopardy.  But  his  bravery, 
strength,  and  skill  were  destined  to  shine  even  more 
conspicuously. 

When  Kennan  came  into  the  camp  after  his 
wonderful  escape,  he  found  every  thing  in  a  bustle  of 
preparation.  The  Indian  attack  was  expected  every 
minute,  and,  as  no  one  knew  any  thing  of  the 
strength,  position,  or  intended  movements  of  the 
enemy,  even  the  coolest  heads  were  vexed  and  puz- 
zled. In  the  midst  of  the  confusion  the  Indians  sud- 
denly rushed  forward  from  all  sides  in  overwhelming 
numbers,  and  *the  bloody  and  unfortunate  battle  of 
the  4th  of  November  commenced.  The  fight  con- 
tinued for  three  hours,  when  the  whites,  completely 
routed,  fled  in  the  most  disorderly  manner. 

In  this  sanguinary  conflict  the  corps  of  the  rangers 
had  the  responsible  and  difficult  part  of  protecting 
the  rear  of  Major  Clarke's  battalion,  to  which  it  was 
attached.  Its  leader  was  killed  in  the  early  part  of 
the  battle,  and  its  numbers  were  greatly  thinned  dur- 
ing the  progress  of  the  fight.  When  victory  finally 
decided  in  favor  of  the  Indians,  the  survivors  of  the 
corps  were  left  almost  entirely  to  the  mercy  of  the 


REMARKABLE   ESCAPES.  427 

savages,  as  they  were  among  the  last  to  leave  the 
field. 

Young  Kennan,  when  the  flight  commenced,  was, 
with  a  few  brave  companions,  far  in  the  rear.  All 
the  rest  of  the  infantry  had  made  off,  and  only  a 
small  body  of  horsemen  was  between  the  rangers  and 
the  pursuing  enemy.  Seeing  his  danger,  Kennan 
quickly  left  the  field,  and  ran  off  as  fleetly  as  possible, 
hoping  to  rescue  himself  by  the  means  which  he  had 
employed  so  successfully  in  the  early  morning.  He 
had  the  good  fortune  to  outstrip  all  his  pursuers, 
and,  passing  horseman  after  horseman,  who  regarded 
him  with  looks  of  wonder,  as  he  flew  along,  gained 
the  front. 

He  would  readily  have  escaped  all  danger  of  death 
or  capture,  had  he  not,  while  pressing  forward,  sud- 
denly stopped  to  relieve  an  unfortunate  friend  and 
companion,  who  had  been  disabled  by  a  ball  which 
broke  his  thigh,  and  who,  having  in  vain  besought 
the  horsemen,  as  they  hurried  past,  to  take  him  up, 
now  called  to  Kennan  in  the  most  piercing  tones  to 
carry  him  from  the  field.  Kennan  caught  the  poor 
fellow  in  his  arms,  placed  him  on  his  back  and,  thus 
encumbered,  continued  his  flight.  For  two  or  three 
hundred  yards  he  kept  his  former  pace ;  but,  before 
long  his  speed  commenced  to  flag,  and  he  gradually 
fell  behind.  The  horsemen  now  overtook  him,  and, 
as  they  came  up  one  by  one,  he  entreated  them  to 
relieve  him.  They  all  refused,  and  Kennan,  growing 
more  and  more  exhausted,  and  seeing  that  the  sav- 
ages were  close  on  his  heels,  finally  told  his  unhappy 


428  THE   BACK-WOODSMEN. 

friend  that  he  must  leave  him  to  his  fate,  The 
wounded  man  set  up  a  cry  of  distress,  and,  instead 
of  relaxing  his  hold  around  Kennan's  neck,  clung 
more  firmly  than  ever.  Kennan  glanced  back,  and 
saw  a  troop  of  Indians,  not  more  than  twenty  yards 
behind,  bending  every  effort  to  overtake  him.  With- 
out a  moment's  hesitation,  he  took  his  knife  and 
quickly  drew  it  across  the  fingers  of  his  companion, 
thus  obliging  him  to  release  his  grasp,  and  in  an  in- 
stant the  unfortunate  man  rolled  helpless  on  the 
ground,  where,  a  few  seconds  later,  he  was  toma- 
hawked by  the  relentless  savages.  Kennan  was  not 
slow  in  taking  advantage  of  his  opportunity,  and  he 
resumed  his  flight  with  so  great  activity  that  before 
long  he  was  once  more  in  the  van. 

Before  attempting  to  secure  his  own  safety,  Ken- 
nan  gave  still  another  instance  of  his  undaunted 
bravery  and  generous  consideration.  While  pur- 
suing his  course,  he  perceived  a  young  man  sitting 
calmly  on  a  log,  evidently  awaiting  with  all  the  un- 
concern of  fortitude  and  despair,  the  approach  of  the 
Indians.  Kennan,  although  he  did  not  recognize  in 
him  an  acquaintance,  stopped,  spoke  to  him,  and  told 
him  to  rise  and  accompany  him.  The  young  man 
replied  by  showing  Kennan  a  wound  which  had  bled 
so  profusely  that  he  was  almost  dead  from  exhaus- 
tion, and  he  said  in  a  despairing  tone  that  he  was  too 
weak  to  attempt  to  fly,  and  would  stay  where  he  was, 
Kennan  made  no  answer,  but  quickly  ran  back  to  a 
place  where  he  had  seen  a  number  of  pack-horses 
,  and,  laying  hold  of  one  by  the  bridle,  he  led 


REMARKABLE    ESCAPES.  429 

it  to  the  spot  where  the  stranger  sat.  The  young 
man  looked  at  him  in  amazement,  and,  with  tears  of 
gratitude,  rose,  and  by  the  aid  of  his  benefactor 
mounted  the  beast.  The  animal  was  but  a  sorry 
creature,  and  would  not  be  forced  beyond  a  slow  trot ; 
but  fortunately  the  Indians  had  by  this  time  given  up 
the  pursuit  to  plunder  the  camp,  and  Kennan  succeed- 
ed in  leading  his  companion  to  a  place  of  safety.  The 
young  man  proved  to  be  a  Mr.  Madison,  afterward 
Governor  Madison,  of  Kentucky.  The  acquaintance 
formed  between  him  and  his  deliverer  grew  into 
a  warm  friendship,  which  continued  uninterrupted 
through  life. 

Mr.  Kennan  never  entirely  recovered  from  the 
immense  exertions  which  he  was  compelled  to  make 
during  this  unfortunate  expedition.  He  settled  in 
Fleming  County,  and  continued  for  many  years  a  lead- 
ing member  of  the  Baptist  Church.  He  died  in  1827. 


THE  following  incident  in  frontier  life  occurred  in 
Western  Pennsylvania; 

About  the  middle  of  the  summer  of  1792,  a  gentle- 
man named  WOODS  imprudently  removed  from  the 
neighborhood  of  a  station,  and,  for  the  benefit  of  his 
stock,  settled  on  a  lonely  heath  near  Beargrass.  One 
morning  he  left  his  family,  consisting  of  a  wife,  a 
daughter  not  yet  grown,  and  a  lame  negro  man,  and 
rode  off  to  the  nearest  station,  not  expecting  to  re- 
turn until  night.  Mrs.  Woods,  while  engaged  in  her 
dairy,  was  alarmed  at  seeing  several  Indians  rapidly 


BACK-VVOObSMEN. 

approaching  the  house.  She  screamed  loudly  in  order 
to  give  the  alarm,  and  ran  with  her  utmost  speed,  in 
order  to  reach  the  house  before  them.  In  this  she 
succeeded,  but  had  not  time  to  reach  the  door  until 
the  foremost  Indian  had  forced  his  way  into  the 
house.  As  soon  as  he  entered,  the  lame  negro 
grappled  him  and  attempted  to  throw  him  upon  the 
floor,  but  was  himself  hurled  to  the  ground  with  vio- 
lence, the  Indian  falling  upon  him.  Mrs.  Woods  was 
too  busily  engaged  in  keeping  the  door  closed  against 
the  party  without  to  attend  to  the  combatants,  but 
the  lame  negro,  holding  the  Indian  in  his  arms,  call- 
ed to  the  young  girl  to  cut  his  head  off  with  a  very 
sharp  ax  which  lay  under  the  bed.  She  attempted 
to  obey,  but  struck  with  so  trembling  a  hand  that 
the  blow  was  ineffectual.  Repeating  her  efforts 
under  the  direction  of  the  negro,  however,  she  at 
length  wounded  the  Indian  so  badly  that  the  negro 
was  enabled  to  rise  and  complete  the  execution. 
Elated  with  success,  he  then  called  to  his  mistress, 
and  told  her  to  suffer  another  Indian  to  enter,  and 
they  would  kill  them  all,  one  by  one.  While  deliber- 
ating upon  this  proposal,  however,  a  sharp  firing  was 
heard  without,  and  the  Indians  quickly  disappeared. 
A  party  of  white  men  had  seen  them  at  a  distance, 
and,  having  followed  them  cautiously,  had  now  inter- 
posed at  a  very  critical  moment,  and  rescued  a  help- 
less family  from  almost  certain  destruction. 


AMONG  the  heroic  band  who  guarded  the  little  fort 


REMARKABLE    ESCAPES.  431 

built  by  Daniel  Boone  at  Boonesborough  was  a  dash- 
ing and  meritorious  young  officer  named  SMITH,  who 
had  been  a  major  in  the  militia  of  Virginia,  and  who, 
for  his  courage  and  military  ability,  stood  high  in  the 
esteem  and  affections  of  the  veteran  pioneer.  During 
the  absence  of  Boone,  Smith  was  frequently  called  to 
the  command,  and  several  stories  are  related  of  the 
great  skill  and  energy  which  characterized  the  dis- 
charge of  his  military  duties. 

On  one  occasion,  during  the  captivity  of  Boone 
among  the  Indians  at  Chillicothe,  Major  Smith  dis- 
played his  daring  and  shrewdness  in  a  most  remark- 
able manner.  A  settler  named  Callaway  had  a  very 
attractive  daughter,  who  so  far  won  the  affections  of 
the  young  officer  that  he  proposed  to  her,  and,  as  he 
was  both  brave  and  handsome,  he  was  accepted. 

It  happened  that  one  day,  in  the  spring  of  1778, 
this  young  woman,  in  company  with  the  two  eldest 
daughters  of  Daniel  Boone,  left  the  fort  and  walked 
out  for  a  stroll  on  the  banks  of  the  Kentucky  River. 
Not  thinking  of  danger,  the  girls  rambled  for  some 
distance,  and  did  not  turn  to  retrace  their  steps  until 
late  in  the  afternoon.  Returning  down  the  river,  they 
perceived  a  small  canoe  concealed  in  some  bushes; 
and  Miss  Callaway,  who  was  in  a  very  gay  and  frolic- 
some mood,  proposed  that  they  should  draw  the  bark 
from  its  nook,  launch  it,  and  cross  the  river,  in  order 
to  visit  some  friends  who  lived  on  the  opposite  side. 
She  added  that  this  would  be  an  excellent  means  of 
testing  the  devotion  of  her  lover,  who,  if  he  really 
felt  for  her  as  he  professed,  would  soon  become 


432  THE;  BACK-WOODSMEN. 

alarmed  at  her  prolonged  absence,  order  out  his  men, 
and  scour  the  whole  country  in  search  of  her. 

The  Boone  girls  were  not  disinclined  to  indulge  Miss 
Callaway's  romantic  freak,  the  boat  was  launched,  and 
in  a  moment  the  young  women  were  drifting  with  the 
stream.  They  were  totally  ignorant  of  the  mea^ 
governing  a  boat,  and,  therefore,  instead  of  bei 
ried  to  the  point  where  they  proposed  to  lana 
were  whirled  hither  and  thither  at  the  mercy  of  the 
current,  which  was  quite  rapid.  Alarmed  at  the  un- 
fortunate issue  of  the  adventure,  they  commenced  to 
scream  for  help.  As  the  canoe  came  to  the  middle  of 
the  stream,  it  was  whirled  about  swifter  and  swifter, 
and,  growing  more  and  more  unsteady,  soon  com- 
menced to  fill  with  water.  Fortunately,  however,  it 
did  not  capsize,  and  it  drifted  across  the  river  until  it 
finally  ran  aground  on  a  sand-bar,  where  its  fair  occu- 
pants were  thrown  violently  into  the  shallow  water. 

Alarm  now  turned  to  mirth,  and  the  girls,  after 
hastily  arranging  their  dresses,  commenced  to  wade 
to  the  shore,  laughing  merrily  over  their  exciting 
adventure.  To  their  unspeakable  terror,  however, 
just  as  they  reached  the  bank,  a  swarthy  Indian 
glided  swiftly  from  a  covert,  and,  running  up  to 
them  with  his  tomahawk  raised  in  the  air,  ordered 
them,  in  a  peremptory  manner,  to  give  themselves 
up.  He  was  followed  in  a  moment  by  three  others, 
and,  as  the  girls  were  powerless  to  resist,  they  were 
instantly  secured,  and  hurried  forward  on  the  march 
through  the  forest. 

The  fair  captives   now  began  to  regret  that  they 


REMARKABLE   ESCAPES. 

had  given  their  romantic  disposition  so  full  play. 
They  were  kept  on  a  constant  run  by  the  savages, 
and  repeatedly  goaded  by  them  with  sharp  sticks. 
As  they  marched  over  rugged,  rocky  ground,  their 
shoes  were  soon  worn  from  their  feet,  and  the  In- 
dians, unmindful  of  their  sufferings,  neglected  to 
supply  them  with  moccasins.  First  their  dresses 
and  then  their  skirt?  were  torn  from  their  bcdies  as 
they  were  hurried  through  the  thick  and  thorny  un- 
derbrush; and  their  limbs  and  ankles  finally  streamed 
with  blood.  They  were  not,  however,  sul  jected  to 
any  personal  indignities,  although  ore  of  the  sav- 
ages, captivated  by  the  charms  of  Miss  Callaway, 
soon  commenced  to  address  soothing  words  to  that 
young  woman,  promising  her  that,  if  she  obeyed  his 
orders  and  bore  the  fatigues  and  sufferings  of  the 
journey  with  patience,  he  would  recompense  her  by 
making  her  his  squaw. 

In  spite  of  the  discouragements  of  the  march,  and 
the  apprehensions  which  they  felt  for  their  future, 
the  captives  still  retained  sufficient  presence  of  mind 
to  enable  them  to  lay  plans  of  escape.  They  knew 
that  the  Indians  would  be  pursued,  and,  in  order  to 
direct  the  pursuers  in  their  course,  they  took  occa- 
sion, when  unperceived,  to  break  and  bend  the  twigs 
as  they  passed  along.  Miss  Callaway,  who,  more 
than  either  of  her  companions,  wished  the  adventure 
speedily  at  an  end,  availed  herself  of  the  tender 
feeling  entertained  for  her  by  her  savage  admirer  to 
retard  the  march ;  for,  two  or  three  times  she  sue* 
ceeded  in  inducing  him  to  permit  her  to  rest,  and, 


434  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

although  he  beat  her  and  cursed  her  for  her  laziness, 
she  affected  to  be  much  exhausted,  and  lagged  be- 
hind. About  ten  o'clock  at  night  the  Indians  made 
a  halt,  built  a  fire,  and  prepared  to  rest.  Nothing 
occurred  during  the  night  to -alarm  th'e  savages  or 
to  encourage  the  despairing  prisoners;  and  with  the 
dawn  of  the  next  day  the  march  was  resumed. 

In  the  meantime  the  young  women  had  been 
missed;  and  Smith,  conjecturing  that  they  had  been 
captur*ed,  quickly  organized  a  company  to  start  in 
pursuit.  The  men  scattered  in  all  directions,  search- 
ing for  traces  of  the  wanderers.  Smith,  with  two 
trusty  comrades,  at  once  sought  the  river,  and,  ex- 
amining the  soft  mud  and  sand  on  the  bank  for  foot- 
prints, soon  discovered  the  impressions  of  small  shoes, 
made,  evidently,  by  the  feet  of  women.  Following 
the  tracks,  he  came  to  the  place  where  the  canoe 
had  been  launched,  and,  as  the  marks  of  the  boat 
remained  distinctly  impressed  on  the  sand,  he  was 
not  slow  in  concluding  that  he  should  have  to  search 
for  further  traces  of  the  girls  on  the  opposite  side. 
He  immediately  plunged  into  the  stream,  and,  fol- 
lowed by  his  two  companions,  swam  across.  A  short 
distance  below  he  again  found  the  foot-prints  of  the 
three  fair  adventurers,  with  the  deep  impressions 
made  by  the  four  moccasined  savages ;  and,  at  once 
conjecturing  that  the  girls  had  been  led  into  captivity, 
he  pressed  forward  with  an  ardor  which  soon  placed 
him  well  on  his  way. 

As  Smith  was  familiar  with  every  part  of  the  sur- 
rounding country  he  was  enabled,  after  once  ascer- 


A  BDKFALO  HUNT. 


REMARKABLE    ESCAPES.  437 

taining  the  general  direction  taken  by  the  savages, 
to  follow  the  trail  with  unerring  sagacity.  Instead 
of  traveling  directly  in  the  steps  of  the  Indians,  he 
often  gained  on  them  by  avoiding  the  difficult  paths 
which  they  had  chosen,  and  steering  courses  ahead 
for  points  which  he  knew  would  lie  in  their  line  of 
march.  Finally,  toward  evening  of  the  second  day, 
while  following  a  small  stream,  he  discovered  the 
water  newiy  thrown  upon  the  rocks,  and,  ordering 
his  men  to  proceed  with  the  utmost  caution,  crept 
forward  on  hands  and  knees  until  he  heard,  imme- 
diately in  front  of  him,  the  tread  of  soft  footsteps. 
He  now  stood  still  and  waited  for  the  party  to  get 
far  enough  in  the  advance  for  him  to  follow  without 
danger  of  discovery,  and  then  resumed  the  pursuit. 

Shortly  after  dark  he  saw  the  sudden  glimmer  of 
a  fire,  and  he  concluded  that  the  savages  had  halted 
with  their  prisoners  for  the  night.  Although  burn- 
ing with  impatience  and  anxiety,  he  prudently  de- 
termined to  delay  the  attack;  for  he  knew  that  the 
Indians  would  be  on  the  alert  until  later  in  the  even- 
ing, and  that,  in  all  probability,  they  would  disperse 
to  hunt  for  game.  He  accordingly  concealed  him- 
self with  his  comrades.  In  about  half  an  hour  he 
heard  the  report  of  two  rifles,  close  at  hand,  and, 
a  few  moments  later,  two  savages,  staggering  under 
the  weight  of  a  deer,  passed  the  place  where  he  lay, 
and  disappeared  in  the  direction  of  the  camp. 

When  at  last  all  was  ripe  for  action,  Smith  emerged 
from  his  hiding-place,  and,  with  noiseless  steps,  crept 
*;ward  the  fire.  Arriving  at  the  place,  he  discovered 


43  8  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

the  girls  sitting  on  the  ground  with  their  four  captors. 
Whispering  his  instructions  to  his  companions,  he 
fired,  and  one  of  the  Indians  fell  dead.  He  then 
rushed -forward  to  attack  the  other  three,  who,  see- 
ing that  he  was  alone,  at  once  fell  into  the  trap  that 
he  had  set,  and,  instead  of  flying,  sprang  to  their  feet 
and  warily  advanced  to  close  around  him.  They  thus 
presented  the  whole  of  their  bodies  to  the  aim  of 
Smith's  companions,  who  quickly  fired,  both  with 
fatal  effect.  Smith  then  closed  with  the  fourth  sav- 
age, and,  after  a  brief  struggle,  overpowered  him 
and  laid  him  lifeless  on  the  ground.  The  three 
girls,  thus  happily  rescued,  were  not  slow  in  giving 
expression  to  their  gratitude ;  and  Smith  returned  to 
the  garrison,  where,  as  we  are  told,  "his  gallantry 
was  repaid  by  the  sweetest  of  all  rewards." 


INSTANCES  OF  INDIAN  GENEROSITY. 


the  Indian  character  was  not  at  all  times 
1  irreclaimably  bad,  but  that  humanity  often  pre- 
vailed over  barbarism,  and  disinterested  generosity 
over  vindictive  cruelty,  is  a  fact  whose  truth  has 
been  too  frequently  attested  to  bear  serious  doubt. 
The  following  story  of  the  renowned  chief  Logan, 
who  is  universally  allowed  to  have  been  the  highest 
type  of  the  North  American  Indian,  and  who,  ac- 
cording to  the  testimony  of  all  who  had  the  good 
fortune  to  encounter  him,  combined  many  of  the 
essentials  of  true  greatness,  is  from  the  pen  of  Rev. 
John  A.  McClung,  one  of  the  most  reliable  and 
entertaining  of  Western  historical  and  biographical 
writers : 

While  hovering  with  his  followers  around  the 
skirts  of  a  thick  settlement,  Logan  suddenly  came 
in  view  of  a  small  field,  recently  cleared,  in  which 
three  men  were  pulling  flax.  Causing  the  greater 
part  of  his  men  to  remain  where  they  were,  Logan, 
together  with  two  others,  crept  up  within  long  shot 
of  the  white  men  and  fired.  One  man  fell  dead ;  the 
remaining  two  attempted  to  escape.  The  elder  of 
the  fugitives  (Hellew)  was  quickly  overtaken  and 
made  prisoner  by  Logan's  associates ;  while  Logan 

(439) 


44°  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

himself,  having  thrown  down  his  rifle,  pressed  for- 
ward alone  in  pursuit  of  the  younger  of  the  white 
men,  whose  name  was  Robinson.  The  contest  was 
keen  for  several  hundred  yards,  but  Robinson,  un- 
luckily looking  around  in  order  to  have  a  view  of 
his  pursuer,  ran  against  a  tree  with  such  violence  as 
completely  to  stun  him,  and  render  him  insensible 
for  several;  minutes. 

Upon  recovering,  he  found  himself  bound  and 
lying  upon  his  back,  while  Logan  sat  by  his  side, 
with  unmoved  gravity,  awaiting  his  recovery.  He 
was  then  compelled  to  accompany  them  in  their 
further  attempts  upon  the  settlements ;  and  in  the 
course  of  a  few  days  was  marched  off,  with  great 
rapidity,  for  their  villages  in  Ohio.  During  the 
march  Logan  remained  silent  and  melancholy.  The 
prisoners,  however,  were  treated  kindly,  until  they 
arrived  at  an  Indian  village  upon  the  Muskingum. 
When  within  a  mile  of  the  town,  Logan  became 
more  animated,  and  uttered  the  "scalp  halloo"  sev- 
eral times,  in  the  most  terrible  tones.  The  never- 
failing  scene  of  insult  and  torture  then  began. 
Crowds  flocked  out  to  meet  them,  and  a  line  was 
formed  for  the  gauntlet. 

Logan  took  no  share  in  the  cruel  game,  but  did 
not  attempt  to  repress  it.  He,  however,  gave  Rob- 
inson, whom  he  regarded  as  his  own  prisoner,  some 
directions  as  to  the  best  means  of  reaching  the 
council-house  in  safety,  and  displayed  some  anxiety 
for  his  safe  arrival ;  while  poor  Hellew  was  left  in 
total  ignorance,  and  permitted  to  struggle  forward 


INSTANCES    OF    INDIAN    GENEROSITY.  441 

as  he  best  could.  Robinson,  under  the  patronage 
of  Logan,  escaped  with  a  few  slight  bruises;  but 
Hellew,  not  knowing  where  to  run,  was  dreadfully 
mangled,  and  would  probably  have  been  killed  upon 
the  spot  had  not  Robinson  (not  without  great  risk  on 
his  own  part)  seized  him  by  the  hand  and  dragged 
him  into  the  council-house. 

On  the  following  morning  a  council  was  called, 
in  order  to  determine  their  fate,  in  which  Logan 
held  a  conspicuous  superiority  over  all  who  were 
assembled.  Hellew's  destiny  came  first  under  discus- 
sion, and  was  quickly  decided  by  an  almost  unani- 
mous vote  of  adoption.  Robinson's  was  most  difficult 
to  determine.  A  majority  of  the  council  (partly  in- 
fluenced by  a  natural  thirst  for  vengeance  upon  at 
least  one  object,  partly,  perhaps,  by  a  lurking  jeal- 
ousy of  the  imposing  superiority  of  Logan's  char- 
acter) were  obstinately  bent  upon  putting  him  to 
death.  Logan  spoke  for  nearly  an  hour  upon  the 
question;  and,  if  Robinson  is  to  be  believed,  with 
an  energy,  copiousness,  and  dignity  which  would 
not  have  disgraced  Henry  himself.  He  appeared 
at  no  loss  for  either  words  or  ideas;  his  tones 
were  deep  and  musical,  and  were  heard  by  the  as- 
sembly with  the  silence  of  death.  All,  however,  was 
vain.  Robinson  was  condemned,  and,  within  an  hour 
afterward,  was  fastened  to  the  stake.  Logan  stood 
apart  from  the  crowd  with  his  arms  folded,  and  his 
eyes  fixed  upon  the  scene  with  an  air  of  stern  dis- 
pleasure. 

When  the  fire  was  about  to  be  applied,  he  sud- 


442  THE   BACK-WOODSMEN. 

denly  strode  into  the  circle,  pushing  aside  those  who 
stood  in  the  way,  and,  advancing  straight  up  to-  the 
stake,  cut  the  cords  with  his  tomahawk,  and,  taking 
the  prisoner  by  the  hand,  led  him,  with  a  determined 
air,  to  his  own  wigwam.  The  action  was  so  totally 
unexpected,  and  the  air  of  the  chief  so  determined, 
that  he  had  reached  the  door  of  his  wigwam  before 
any  one  ventured  to  interfere.  Much  dissatisfaction 
was  then  expressed, -and  threatening  symptoms  of 
a  tumult  appeared;  but  so  deeply  rooted  was  his 
authority,  that  in  a  few  hours  all  was  quiet,  and 
Robinson,  without  opposition,  was  permitted  to  en- 
ter an  Indian  family.  He  remained  with  Logan  until 
the  treaty  of  Fort  Pitt,  in  the  autumn  of  the  ensu- 
ing year,  when  he  returned  to  Virginia.  He  ever 
retained  the  most  unbounded  admiration  for  Logan, 
and  repeatedly  declared  that  his  countenance,  when 
speaking,  was  the  most  striking,  varied,  and  impress- 
ive that  he  ever  beheld.  And  when  it  is  recollected 
that  he  had  often  heard  Lee  and  Henry,  in  all  their 
glory,  the  compliment  must  be  regarded  as  a  very 
high  one. 

ANOTHER  instance  of  savage  generosity  is  related 
by  the  same  writer.  A  party  of  Indians  had  taken 
two  or  three  white  men  prisoners.  One  of  the  cap- 
tives, named  JOHNSTON,  was  very  handsomely  dressed 
in  a  broadcloth  surtout,  red  vest,  fine  ruffled  shirt, 
and  a  pair  of  new  boots. 

"The  Indians  began  to  eye  him  attentively,  and  at 
length  one  of  them,  whose  name  he  afterward  learned 


INSTANCES    OF    INDIAN    GENEROSITY.  443 

was  Chickatommo,  a  Shawnee  chief,  came  up  to  him 
and  gave  the  skirt  of  his  coat  two  or  three  hard  pulls, 
accompanied  by  several  gestures  which  were  not  to 
be  mistaken.  Johnston  instantly  stripped  off  his  coat 
and  very  politely  handed  it  to  him.  His  red  waist- 
coat was  now  exposed  to  full  view,  and  attracted  great 
attention.  Chickatommo  instantly  exclaimed,  '  Hugh ! 
you  big  cappatain ! '  Johnston  hastily  assured  him  that 
he  was  mistaken ;  that  he  was  no  officer,  nor  had  any 
connection  with  military  affairs  whatever.  The  Indian 
then  drew  himself  up,  pointed  with  his  ringer  to  his 
breast,  and  exclaimed,  '  Me  cappatain  !  all  dese ' — 
pointing  to  his  men — '  my  sogers ! '  The  red  waist- 
coat accompanied  the  surtout,  and  Johnston  quickly 
stood  shivering  in  his  shirt  and  pantaloons. 

"An  old  Indian  then  came  up  to  him,  and,  placing 
one  hand  upon  his  own  shirt  (a  greasy,  filthy  garment, 
which  had  not,  probably,  been  washed  for  six  months), 
and  the  other  upon  Johnston's  ruffles,  cried  out  in  En- 
glish, '  Swap !  swap ! '  at  the  same  time  giving  the 
'ruffles  a  gentle  pull  with  his  dirty  fingers.  Johnston, 
conquering  his  disgust  at  the  proposal,  was  about  to 
comply,  and  had  drawn  his  shirt  over  his  head,  when 
it  was  violently  pulled  back  by  another  Indian,  whose 
name  he  afterward  learned  was  Tom  Lewis.  His 
new  ally  then  reproached  the  other  Indian  severely 
for  wishing  to  take  the  shirt  from  a  prisoner's  back  in 
such  cold  weather,  and  instantly  afterward  threw  his 
own  blanket  over  Johnston's  shoulders.  The  action 
was  accompanied  by  a  look  so  full  of  compassion  and 
kindness,  that  Johnston,  who  had  expected  far  differ- 


444  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

ent  treatment,  was  perfectly  astonished.  He  now 
saw  that  native  kindness  of  heart  and  generosity  of 
feeling  was  by  no  means  rare,  even  among  savages." 


A  MOST  remarkable  and  affecting  story,  illustrative 
of  the  nobler  traits  in  the  savage  character,  is  told  by 
Mrs.  Kinzie  in  "Wau  Bun,  The  "Early  Day  in  the 
North-west."  It  is  thus  related  by  the  author  of 
"Pioneers  in  the  Settlement  of  America:" 

In  1779  MR.  LYTLE,  an  emigrant  from  Eastern  Penn- 
sylvania, was  living  with  his  family,  composed  of  his 
wife  and  children,  on  the  banks  of  Plum  River,  a 
tributary  of  the  Alleghany,  some  miles  from  Fort 
Pitt.  They  were  occasionally  visited  by  some  of  the 
friendly  Delawares;  but  for  some  time  there  had 
been  no  incursion  of  hostile  Indians  in  that  region, 
and  the  settlers  had  become  less  fearful  of  such  at- 
tacks, and  consequently  less  cautious.  One  after- 
noon, in  the  autumn  of  the  year  above  named,  while 
Mr.  Lytle  was  assisting  a  neighbor  at  a  house-raising 
some  miles  away,  his  two  eldest  children,  a  girl  of 
nine  and  a  boy  two  years  younger,  while  playing-  in 
a  little  dell  near  their  dwelling  were  taken  prisoners 
by  some  hostile  savages,  who  stealthily  approached 
them  from  behind,  and  seized  them  as  their  attention 
was  attracted  in  another  direction.  Terrified  into 
silence  by  the  threatening  signs  of  the  Indians,  they 
were  hurried  away ;  but  grief  at  being  torn  from  their 
home  and  parents,  and  dread  of  the  cruelties  prac- 
ticed on  their  captives  by  the  savages,  with  the  tales 


INSTANCES   OF    INDIAN    GENEROSITY.  445 

of  which  their  ears  were  familiar,  exceeded  their  ter- 
ror, and  they  could  not  restrain  their  tears  and  sobs. 
Their  distress  touched  the  heart  of  the  chief  of  the 
party,  a  man  of  mild  aspect  for  an  Indian,  who 
endeavored  to  soothe  them,  and,  when  the  savages 
encamped  for  the  night,  prepared  a  couch  of  long 
grass,  and  gave  them  a  portion  of  his  own  meat  and 
parched  corn. 

Before  the  party  lay  down  to  sleep,  another  band 
of  Indians  arrived,  bringing  with  them  the  children's 
mother  with  her  infant  three  months  old.  What  had 
become  of  the  other  two  children,  who  had  also  been 
at  play  near  the  house,  none  of  the  captives  knew, 
and  the  mother  could  only  hope  that  they  had  es- 
caped, while  she  suppressed  her  own  grief  to  com- 
fort the  little  prisoners. 

In  the  morning  the  Indians  resumed  their  march, 
and  then  was  repeated  the  old  story  of  savage  atroc- 
ity toward  helpless  infants.  One  of  the  party  offer- 
ed to  relieve  the  mother  by  carrying  her  infant,  and, 
unsuspicious  of  treachery,  she  gratefully  accepted  the 
offer.  The  Indian  lingered  behind,  and,  after  a  time, 
re-appeared  without  the  child,  whom  the  mother 
never  saw  again.  She  then  knew  too  well  what  had 
been  its  probable  fate ;  but  she  dared  not  question  or 
murmur,  but,  with  a  stricken  heart  and  silent  prayers, 
traveled  on  with  her  surviving  children.  The  chief 
continued  to  treat  the  captives  with  kindness;  and 
when,  after  a  weary  journey  for  many  days  the  party 
arrived  at  their  village,  he  conducted  them  to  the 
cabin  of  his  mother,  the  widow  of  a  great  chief  of  the 


446  THE   BACK-WOODSMEN. 

tribe,  and,  commending  them  all  to  her  care,  pre- 
sented to  her  the  little  girl,  whom  he  had  from  the 
first  regarded  with  great  tenderness,  saying  he  had 
brought  her  to  be  his  sister,  and  to  supply  the  place 
of  a  brother  who  had  been  killed  by  the  Delawares. 
Thus  was  the  little  girl  adopted  into  the  family  of  her 
captor;  and  while  Mrs.  Lytle  and  her  boy  were  held 
for  ransom,  she  was  to  remain  as  his  sister,  and  be 
regarded  as  the  daughter  of  a  great  chief. 

When  Mr.  Lytle  returned  from  the  house-raising 
in  the  evening,  he  found  his  house  silent  and  his 
family  gone.  It  was  but  too  evident  that  the  Indians 
had  been  there;  and  whether  his  wife  and  children 
had  been  murdered  or  carried  away  was  a  matter  of 
agonizing  doubt.  With  the  aid  of  his  neighbors — and 
none  were  very  near — he  began  a  search,  but  found 
no  trace  of  his  lost  ones,  and  could  only  hope  that 
they  were  still  alive  and  held  as  captives.  In  the 
morning  he  started  for  Fort  Pitt  to  obtain  aid  from 
the  commandant  in  pursuing  the  marauders.  On  the 
way,  as  he  passed,  he  descried  his  two  youngest 
children  on  a  bank  by  the  wayside.  Grateful  for  the 
safety  of  these  little  ones,  he  eagerly  questioned 
them  as  to  the  fate  of  their  mother  and  the  other 
children;  but  they  could  give  no  information,  except 
to  confirm  the  supposition  that  their  home  had  been 
visited  by  Indians.  The  story  of  their  escape  was 
soon  told. 

They  were  playing  in  a  field  near  the  house,  when 
they  saw  the  Indians,  who  probably  did  not  observe 
them,  and  in  alarm  they  crept  into  an  adjoining 


INSTANCES   OF   INDIAN   GENEROSITY.  447 

clearing  which  was  overgrown  with  blackberry-bushes, 
where  they  hid  themselves  for  a  long  time.  They 
then  traversed  this  thicket  of  briers  with  great  suffer- 
ing to  their  limbs  and  feet,  away  from  the  house 
where  they  knew  the  danger  lay.  Fearing  that  they 
would  be  taken,  and  impressed  by  the  familiar  tales 
of  Indian  cruelties,  the  elder  of  the  two — a  little  boy 
of  six  years — proposed  to  his  sister,  two  years  younger, 
that  he  should  kill  her,  as  he  could  do  it  "so  much 
easier"  than  the  Indians;  and,  nothwithstanding  her 
sobs,  for  a  time  persisted  that  he  must  do  it  to  save 
her  from  suffering.  This  idea,  however,  passed  away 
without  an  attempt  to  put  it  into  action ;  and  travel- 
ing on,  not  knowing  where  they  were,  they  at  last 
followed  some  cattle  to  the  house  near  which  they 
were  found.  There  was  no  one  there  to  welcome 
them,  and  they  crept  under  some  rubbish  at  the  back 
of  the  house,  where,  weary  with  their  long  toil,  they 
slept.  They  had  come  forth  from  their  hiding-place, 
but  were  uncertain  which  way  to  turn  their  steps, 
when  they  were  discovered  by  their  father. 

With  a  detachment  of  soldiers  from  Fort  Pitt  Mr. 
Lytle  proceeded  in  search  of  the  other  members  of 
his  family,  and  having  reason  to  suspect  the  Senecas, 
he  went  to  one  of  their  villages,  where  he  found  his 
wife  and  two  eldest  children.  He  met  with  little  diffi- 
culty in  ransoming  his  wife  and  the  little  boy;  but 
neither  promises  of  liberal  presents  nor  entreaties 
could  obtain  the  release  of  the  little  girl,  who  was  the 
adopted  child  of  the  tribe.  Finding  all  their  efforts 
in  vain,  with  sad  hearts  the  parents  were  obliged  to 


448  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

depart  with  their  one  child,  leaving  their  first-born  in 
the  hands  of  the  savages.  Their  grief  was  partially 
relieved,  however,  by  the  evident  kindness  with  which 
she  was  treated,  and  they  could  only  hope  that  a 
future  effort  might  be  more  successful. 

Having  placed  his  family  in  safety  at  Fort  Pitt, 
Mr.  Lytle  next  sought  the  aid  of  Colonel  Johnson, 
the  British  agent  at  Niagara,  who  had  great  influence 
with  the  savages.  Colonel  Johnson  was  a  man  of 
benevolent  disposition,  and,  having  heard  the  story, 
he  went  himself  to  the  Indian  village  to  procure  the 
little  girl's  release.  But  the  chief  was  inexorable; 
no  offer  of  guns  and  horses  could  induce  him  to  part 
with  "his  sister." 

The  little  captive,  who  had  inspired  so  much  affec- 
tion in  the  savage  chief,  continued  to  be  treated  with 
great  kindness  by  him  and  the  "old  queen,"  his 
mother.  She  was  supplied  with  their  choicest  food, 
adorned  with  their  brightest  ornaments,  and  rested 
on  their  softest  couch  of  skins.  This  kindness  won 
her  from  her  home-sickness,  and  secured  from  her 
affectionate  heart  a  return  of  love,  and  she  became 
strongly  attached  to  the  chief,  whom  she  learned  to 
call  her  brother.  She  was  treated  with  like  consider- 
ation by  the  other  members  of  the  tribe,  with  one 
exception ;  the  wife  of  the  chief  regarded  her  with  a 
bitter  and  unreasonable  jealousy,  and  lost  no  oppor- 
tunity to  manifest  her  hatred.  She  would  have  re- 
moved the  object  of  her  jealousy  by  violence,  had 
she  dared,  and  she  watched  with  native  treachery 
for  a  chance  to  use  a  more  subtile  method  of  re* 


INSTANCES   OF    INDIAN    GENEROSITY.  449 

venge.  Such  an  opportunity  was  offered  by  the 
sickness  of  the  young  captive  with  an  attack  of  fever 
and  ague.  The  treacherous  squaw,  changing  her 
demeanor,  became  very  kind  in  her  attentions  to  the 
sick  child ;  and  one  day,  during  the  absence  of  the  old 
queen,  she  brought  a  bowl  containing  a  drink  which 
she  offered  the  patient,  and  urged  her  to  swallow  it, 
saying  it  would  cure  the  disease.  But  a  young  In- 
dian, who  had  seen  the  malignant  squaw  digging 
poisonous  herbs  in  the  morning,  made  signals  through 
a  crevice  of  the  cabin  which  put  the  little  girl  on  her 
guard,  and  she  bade  the  woman  to  set  it  down  for 
her  to  drink  when  she  came  out  of  the  fever  turn 
which  was  then  upon  her.  When  the  woman  at  last 
retired,  the  young  savage  told  the  story,  and  the 
bowl,  being  delivered  to  the  old  queen,  was  found  to 
contain  a  decoction  of  the  most  poisonous  herbs 
known  to  Indian  pharmacy.  The  other  Indians  were 
greatly  enraged  at  this  treacherous  attempt  on  the 
life  of  their  young  favorite,  and  the  would-be  mur- 
deress was  banished  from  her  husband's  lodge,  and 
^condemned  to  hoe  corn  in  the  farthest  corner  of  the 
plantation. 

Four  years  passed,  and  the  little  captive  had  be- 
come contented  with  her  savage  life,  and  happy  in 
the  unusual  kindness  and  love  of  the  chief  and  his 
mother,  while  her  parents  were  ever  longing  for  the 
return  of  their  lost  one.  After  the  treaty  of  peace 
between  Great  Britain  and  the  United  States,  Mr. 
Lytle  determined  to  make  another  effort  to  recover 
his  daughter,  and  went  with  his  wife  to  Niagara,  that, 


45O  THE    BACK-WOODSMEN. 

with  the  aid  of  Colonel  Johnson,  he  might  spare 
neither  time  nor  labor  to  rescue  her.  Colonel  John- 
son readily  lent  his  assistance,  and  went  to  the 
Seneca  village  for  the  purpose  of  negotiating  for  the 
release  of  the  young  captive.  It  was  the  time  of 
"  the  feast  of  green-corn."  The  Indians  were  in  peace- 
ful and  pleasant  mood,  and  Colonel  Johnson,  with 
great  tact  and  earnestness,  unfolded  his  errand.  But 
the  chief  was  unwilling  to  listen  to  the  proposal  to 
give  up  the  "sister"  who  was  so  dear  to  him,  and 
who  was  so  attached  to  him.  When,  however,  the 
kind-hearted  agent  told  him  of  the  mother's  love 
which  had  brought  her  so  many  miles  that  she  might 
at  least  once  more  see  her  child,  he  relented,  and 
promised  to  bring  the  captive  to  the  great  council 
which  was  soon  to  be  held  at  Niagara,  that  the 
mother  might  look  upon  her;  but  at  the  same  time 
he  stipulated  that  no  attempt  should  be  made  to  take 
her  aflray  from  him. 

Cheered  by  this  promise,  that  they  should  once 
more  see  their  beloved  child,  but  scarcely  hoping 
that  they  would  be  able  to  retain  her,  the  parents 
anxiously  awaited  the  assembling  of  the  grand  coun- 
cil. On  the  appointed  day  the  ladies  of  the  garrison, 
who  had  become  deeply  interested  in  the  affair,  ac- 
companied Mrs.  Lytle  to  the  banks  of  the  river  to 
watch  the  arrival  of  the  various  bands  of  Indians  as 
they  reached  the  opposite  shore,  and  were  ferried 
across  on  their  way  to  the  council.  At  last  they  saw 
a  mounted  party  arrive,  with  the  leader  of  which  rode 
a  child,  who,  though  dressed  in  the  Indian  fashion, 


FRANKS  INDIAN  FRIEND. 


INSTANCES    OF    INDIAN    GENEROSITY.  453 

and  ornamented  with  strings  of  wampum  about  her 
neck,  was  recognized  as  the  little  captive.  Declining 
the  offer  to  have  his  horses  ferried  across  the  river, 
the  chief  entered  a  boat  with  his  young  companion, 
whom  he  evidently  treated  with  great  tenderness,  and 
was  rowed  across.  Having  landed,  they  advanced 
toward  the  group  of  ladies  and  officers  who  were 
anxiously  awaiting  them,  the  little  girl  clinging  to 
the  hand  of  her  protector  till  she  recognized  her 
mother;  then,  with  a  cry  of  delight,  she  ran  forward 
and  threw  herself  into  the  arms  of  the  one  whose 
early  love  she  had  never  forgotten,  and  who,  in  her 
deep  emotion,  had  fallen  on  her  knees  in  front  of  the 
group.  The  scene  was  deeply  affecting  to  the  by- 
standers ;  and  the  chief,  gazing  a  re*v  ~noments  at 
this  display  of  mutual  affection,  witn  a  noble  gener- 
osity, unusual  in. an  Indian,  said:  "The  mother  shall 
have  her  child.  I  will  go  back  alone."  He  immedi- 
ately returned  to  the  boat,  regardless  of  all  invita- 
tions to  attend  the  council ;  and,  having  crossed  to  the 
opposite  shore,  the  whole  party  was  seen  to  mount 
and  ride  away  into  the  woods. 

The  little  captive  was  thus  restored  to  her  parents, 
and  the  associations  of  early  years  were  soon  revived. 
She  never  saw  her  Indian  brother  again.  Her  father, 
fearing  that  the  chief  might  repent  of  his  generosity, 
and  attempt  to  recover  his  protege,  went  West,  and 
settled  at  Detroit.  Among  the  many  cruel  deeds  of 
the  Indians,  natural  to  their  savage  state,  and  often 
provoked  by  their  wrongs,  the  noble  conduct  of  this 
chief  may  well  be  recorded. 


GENERAL  MILES— MODERN  INDIAN  FIGHTER. 


